


Veni, Vedi

by demonsonthemoon



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Baby, F/F, I started this fic in 2015 lmao, I'm not laughing actually I'm in pain, M/M, Multi, Polyamorous relationship, Post pacific Rim 1, Slow Burn, Vanessa Gottlieb lives forever in my heart, at some point, at some point also, this burn so slow it took me 4 years to write it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-01-01 03:42:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 69,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18327932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonsonthemoon/pseuds/demonsonthemoon
Summary: Everything changed after they collapsed the Breach.Newt lost the thing he had dedicated his life to.Hermann lost all of his certainties, and gained a family.Vanessa found something to hope for again.And, somehow, all of their lives got tangled together.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I started this fic in 2015 and now it's 2019 and Vanessa has been definitely erased from canon. But hey! At least I finished this thing!
> 
> I'm currently editing it, chapters will be posted once a week for the foreseeable future.

**Hermann  
**   


_He couldn't breathe. The walls were closing in on him. Or he was closing in on them. He didn't fit here. He was_ too big _. There wasn't enough space, he was too big, he was-_

 _He was a destroyer of world, and his body was not made to be comfortable. His body had never been made to be comfortable. It was only meant to survive and to destroy. Even if he was in pain, in so much pain, even if he was dying, over and over again. His purpose was to destroy. There was nothing else he could do. Even as all of his other selves cursed and sobbed and disappeared in a flash of agony, he had to destroy. He had to_ destroy.

 

Hermann had been scared he would fall asleep as soon as his MRI started. He shouldn't have worried about that. Sleep was the last thing on his mind as the darkness let all of the sensations he had stored during the drift flood back into his mind.

The scariest thing wasn't that Hermann didn't know how to calm himself down. The scariest thing was that he wasn't sure he wanted to.

The bodies of the kaiju were mutilated and in pain, engineered without concern for the creatures' comfort, but that wasn't anything that Hermann wasn't already used to. These bodies, however, were also vast and powerful, and _that_ was a new feeling to the mathematician. _That_ was intoxicating.

Maybe Newt's – _Newton's_ – own fascination for the giant monsters had influenced his thoughts, and that was why he felt more awed than horrified.

Or maybe that was just what Hermann wanted to tell himself. Maybe it was easier to say these feelings were Newt's because then he wouldn't have to think about what it meant to be having them. Maybe he could pretend it was all another person's problem, not a fault of his own.

Or maybe the difference between Newt's feelings, his own, and the kaiju's just didn't matter anymore. Maybe Hermann Gottlieb as he had existed didn't matter anymore and all that was left of him was three jigsaw puzzles jumbled up together, all with missing pieces.

 

When the MRI stopped, when Hermann was faced by the ceiling lights once more and asked to sit up, his body started shaking so much he almost dropped to the ground. He had somehow stayed still for the whole scan. It was lucky, as he wasn't certain he would have been able to handle having to start over.

He heard retching from the next room, and guessed that Newt had just finished an MRI of his own. From the sounds, the other man was probably feeling as bad as himself, maybe even a little worse. It was to be expected considering the man had drifted with kaiju _twice_ , and one while completely alone.

What an insane, brash, arrogant, careless genius of a man. That particular feeling of admiration, Hermann knew, was all his own.

Both of them were brought to what could be considered a bedroom, although its walls were thin, movable partitions that barely closed them off from the rest of the medical bay. Two nurses came in and drew some blood from them to be tested. Newt looked like he was about to puke when the thick liquid started trickling into the vial, and Hermann himself was feeling quite uneasy.

Then they were told to rest.

 

Half an hour later, the complaining started.

Hermann had forgotten an adjective in his description of Newton. The man was also _absolutely unbearable_ , when he wanted to be.

“What kind of authoritarian regime is this?” Newton growled. The medical officer he was talking to sent an apologetic look in Hermann's direction. It was an appreciated gesture.

“I'm sorry, Doctor Geiszler, but it's just not safe for you. We don't know what the aftereffects of your drift might be now that the adrenaline has worn off. We can't risk exposing you to too much movement or loud noises. And you definitely shouldn't drink any alcohol in your condition...”

“My condition? You have no idea what my condition even is! We saved the freaking world, lady! And this is how you thank us? We saved the freaking world, and we're _fine_. The fact that they're even having a party without us in an outrage.”

Hermann decided to ignore his headache and intervene before the polite mask of the officer fell off and she decided that knocking Newt unconscious was probably the best way to have him stay quiet.

“Newton. You nearly puked inside of an MRI machine.”

“That's not-”

“As you said,” Hermann continued cuttingly. “We saved the world. And we survived. Don't go throwing that away because you're craving some alcohol.”

“We're _fine_!” Newt protested, raising his voice.

“We are _not_ fine.” Hermann dropped his fist on the bedside table near the bed he was sitting on. His cane clattered to the ground. He took a deep breath. “We are not fine.  Now please sit down and let the officer go back to helping with the other wounded.”

This finally made Newt deflate. He managed to sit down in a way that looked both pointedly angry and slightly ridiculous. The medical officer threw Hermann a grateful look and nodded her head, before hiding behind her mask of professionalism again. “Call if you need anything,” she said, disappearing between two of the partitions.

Hermann closed his eyes, as a parody of silence settled around them.

“We can't think like that,” Newt said.

Hermann sighed silently, unsurprised at the interruption, and looked at him. He unsuccessfully tried to read his face. “What do you mean?”

“ _I_ can't think like that. I can't just... accept that we're broken. That we're in pain. I can't live like that. I have to... I have to believe that we're fine. That we're gonna be fine. I can't just accept this, Hermann, I-”

“We will be,” Hermann replied. “We will be fine. Soon. Later.”

Hermann knew how to live with pain. He knew that, for the most part, it was about acknowleding your own limits. He also knew that Newt's utmost desire was to become a completely unstoppable force, and he wondered how painful it must be for the biologist to have to fit Hermann's thoughts within his own worldview. How tiring it must be to fight it, to compensate.

“But right now we need to rest. Right now we need to do everything we can to ensure that getting back to _fine_ is _easy_.”

“This fucking sucks.”

“I know.”

They kept quiet for a few seconds. Hermann was considering taking off his shoes  and _finally_ lying down when Newton started talking again.

“I can't believe you drifted with me.” His voice was low, probably low enough that anyone outside of their small room couldn't hear him.

Hermann ran a hand through his hair. He frowned. This wasn't something he usually did.

“Sometimes I can't believe it myself,” he finally replied.

It was both true and untrue. The events of the past few days all seemed unbelievable. At the same time, though, drifting with Newt had been the logical conclusion. If he ever went back in time, Hermann would take the same decision in a heartbeat. Logic couldn't be argued against.

“Thank you.”

The words felt fragile in the air between them, like they might break if Hermann even dared to acknowledge them. Like _Newt_ might break if he did.

 

**Newt**

 

Newt woke up with a scream on his lips, and held it back out of a habit he had thought he'd lost.

He looked around himself as his heart tried to beat its way out of his chest.

The Med Bay. Hermann on a bed next to his, close enough to touch if he reached out with his hand.

Newt was fine. He was okay.

He closed his eyes again, trying to get his breathing back to normal. The phosphenes were like swirls of ink needled into his eyelids.

He went back to sleep.

 

He was woken up again when someone softly placed breakfast trays on both their bedside tables. Newt blinked up at them, fighting sleep from his eyes, and vaguely nodded as the PPDC employee whispered an apology in Mandarin and then quietly left.

There was a glass of soy milk on the tray, and Newt drained it in two gulps. He wasn't in such a rush to start on the biscuits and dried fruit though, and decided to wait for Hermann to wake up instead.

He looked for his phone, but realised they must still be with his clothes from the day before, which he had changed out of and handed to some of the medical staff yesterday. He didn't want to have to walk around and start looking for the right person to ask, so he just sat on the edge of his bed and breathed for a while.

Something was weird.

Their area of the Med Bay was oddly silent. He guessed that quiet was recommended in a room full of injured or sick people, but still. There was something else.

His thoughts felt too silent.

There was none of the roaring from the day before, the screams of rage and pain of the kaiju over the barely audible shouts of people running for their lives. But there was also none of the usual spinning thoughts that made up the background noise of Newt's consciousness. Instead he felt... calm. Focused. The panic caused by his nightmare had faded away, leaving him with this. This... empty. Newt didn't like it.

He felt slow, and cold. He felt like his thoughts were endlessly echoing off bare metal walls. He felt like that time he had tried weed in college. He hadn't liked smoking either.

So this was what Hermann thought like? The silent precision suited him, even as it made Newt feel agoraphobic. There was too much space here in which to lose himself.

Newt felt a gaze weigh on him, and looked up to find Hermann awake and staring. What a creep.

“Oh, hello there!” he said, much too loudly and joyfully.

Hermann groaned and covered his eyes with his hand, as if the gesture would be enough to block Newt from assaulting his senses so early in the morning.

“Do you want some soy milk? We're being treated to breakfast in bed. Looks a little like someone has something they want to be forgiven for. I have to say milk and biscuits totally doesn't make up for forcing up to skip the literal party of the century, but it's a start.”

“Newton. Do shut up, please.”

Silence fell again. With a groan, Hermann finally sat up. He rubbed at his eyes, then stretched a little. He looked strangely like a kitten, which was a thought Newt would cherish forever but knew better than to ever utter within reach of Hermann's cane.

Then Hermann picked up his glass of milk and started drinking, slowly and in silence.

 

“Oh my god, do you have to!” Newt exclaimed.

“Pardon me?” Hermann asked, looking up with a cocked eyebrow.

“You're tapping your fingers against your glass. It's freaking me out.”

“I-” Hermann froze, looking down at his own hands accusatingly. “Do you really have to be so hypocritical?”

Newt huffed in surprise at the attack. “What the hell does _that_ mean?”

“You know very well that if I'm fidgeting it's a habit I picked up from you. Don't blame me for your own failings.”

All of the silence in Newt's brain was gone now. He felt the colors drain from his face. “My failings? Fuck you Hermann. Fuck you so much right now. I thought you were a better person. I thought you were good enough not to cross this _one_ line. The one line I thought I didn't need to draw out for you.”

“I'm the one who drew the lines in this relationship. Metaphorical _and_ literal. I'm the one who drew them because you didn't seem to have an ounce of respect in you, for me or for my work. Showing you the respect you refused me was a _courtesy_ , Newton.”

“You are so full of shit right now!” Newt spat out. “Maybe you _think_ I don't respect you because you don't want to see it. Maybe you don't want to fucking admit that I _get you_. Maybe twisting everything so that it orbits around your every insecurity is just a way you have to get revenge on yourself.”

“And maybe the only reason I _drifted_ with you is because your-”

“Um.”

Both men turned towards the nurse who had just cleared her throat. “What?!” they asked in unison.

“I... can come back later if you need me to but...”

Hermann waved his hand in the air impatiently, urging her on.

“I thought I'd let you know that we want you to go through a few new scans today. We want to see if there's evolution in your condition.”

“And what condition would that be?”

Newt rolled his eyes at Hermann's voice. It was politely cold, and yet filled with unmistakable disdain. He called it the British voice. But well. At least they were on the same side here.

“Well,” the woman said. “We don't really have any reference point here. Your brains are lighting up in unusual places, in a scale that goes beyond normal drift partners.”

“Yeah, tell us something we _don't_ know,” Newt remarked. They had drifted with _kaiju_. They had drifted with a _hivemind_. Obviously their brains would react to that. Drifting forced new neural connections to happen, so it was normal to observe side-effects for at least 48 hours after every drift.

“We just want to make sure there won't be any complications,” the nurse added. “I'll come pick you up in an hour. Feel free to use the showers here in the meantime.”

And with that she turned briskly away and left.

Good for her.

 

**Vanessa**

 

She watched the clip for the thirteenth time that day. She hadn't believed it when she had seen the first headline. For a moment she had thought the entire universe had teamed up to play a sick joke on her.

But then she had played the video clip included in the article, and tears had started streaming down her face.

The War was over. The War was over, and they had won.

Hours later, she still couldn't believe it. She watched and rewatched the same video clip, shot from above the water, which showed the blast created by the explosion of Gypsy Danger's core, as well as the opening of Mako Mori and Raleigh Becket's escape pods.

Vanessa Gottlieb watched the video that marked their victory, and she cried.

She had stopped hoping for this, at least consciously. Hoping had been too hard. Hoping had encouraged her to plan her life around a possibility that might never come, and it had become too unhealthy. She had learned to survive on her own. She had learned not to wait for the War to end before allowing herself to live.

But the War had ended now. She didn't need to be on her own anymore.

 

She knew Hermann would have contacted her if he'd had access to his phone, but she couldn't wait any longer. She didn't feel like her voice would be clear enough to leave a voicemail. Her throat felt raw from her relieved sobs. She opened a text window instead.

There were so many things she wanted to say. Most of them felt like platitudes, though, or like they were too intimate to say through text.

_I miss you._

_I love you._

_I need you to come home._

_Do you think we can teach each other what it feels like not to be afraid?_

The last time they had seen each other had been four months ago. Two months before Vanessa had video-called Hermann, hands shaking, to tell him that she was pregnant and that she wanted to keep the baby.

She had known about the pregnancy for a little while by then, but hadn't told Hermann until her decision had been made. Reason had told her that this would be a terrible world to raise a child in. And she knew Hermann would have argued the same, argued that he couldn't be there for her and the child, that they should wait more.

But there had been no telling how long the war would last. There had been no telling if Hermann would ever have the chance to be present as a father. There had been no telling whether a better world would ever come around. And in the meantime, Vanessa had wanted that child. It had been a selfish decision, and she had cried when telling Hermann about it, and he had cried too. But he had also told her that he trusted her.

And now... now it all felt like prophecy. Like things had been meant to happen.

She finally chose what to send her husband.

_Well done._

She knew he would know what she meant. He would know that she was proud of him. He would know she had too much to say, that she wanted to call him. He would know that she was thinking of him.

She switched tabs on her phone and pulled up the video again. She could say the words in time with the voice-over by now.

 

For the first time in years, Vanessa let herself think about the future without guilt. It was probably a bad idea still to hope too much. The war might be over, but the world was still in ruins. There were consequences to deal with, among them the numerous cases of Kaiju Blue infections. Although most of them were concentrated around the Pacific, the infection had spread to many countries bordered by oceans. Even in England, life wasn't exactly safe.

But then, when had it been?

There was also reconstruction to think about. Vanessa guessed that she could always find a use for her old Civil Engineering degree, in case the model agency she had been working with before the war didn't get back into proper business. She'd been able to live fine with the odd photoshoot here and there and Hermann's salary, but she wanted to get moving again at some point.

It all still felt so far away. Just as the end of her pregnancy still felt far away. Just as Hermann coming home did.

But she could imagine that world now, and even that was a freedom she hadn't been certain she would ever feel again. It was intoxicating.

They would have to find a new apartment, now that Hermann would be moving back in. They had sold the last one as he had settled in his first Shatterdome position, because Vanessa wouldn't have needed the space on her own. It had felt too dangerous to stay alone in the walls that contained all the memories of their lives together.

So she had moved back to England, as a way to be closer to the part of her family that wasn't Hermann. Her parents had been delighted.

Now that she was thinking about the future, though, she couldn't help but think of _away_. She wanted to go back to Germany. The country had always felt like a fresh start to her, while England was too full of ghosts and old things.

Hermann would have to be okay with it, of course. He had been forced to move from one place to the other for so long, Vanessa wanted to find a place where he could finally make a home. Where _they_ would make a home. One that didn't feel inherently temporary, one that wasn't just a fake solution to a much bigger problem.

Hermann had always liked Great Britain. Vanessa kept telling him it was because he had only ever spent three years there, during his Bachelor's years. She knew he would have stayed longer if he could have, but his father had had other ideas. To which the high tuition fees had contributed.

So Hermann had done his Master's degree in Berlin, and he insisted that meeting Vanessa was reason enough not to regret it. She knew that wasn't entirely true, though. She knew that you could be happy that something had happened and still regret what could have been instead.

Not that there were any regrets on her side of things. She had moved to Germany looking for the life-changing illumination all teen movies talked about. And partly to run away from her home life in Dorset, which had been perfect and utterly boring. She wasn't sure she had ever found her illumination, but the experience had been life-changing either way, what with meeting Hermann when he had been working as a teacher's assistant. They had become friends, then partners, then husband and wife, and she had never looked back.

She took trips back to England from time to time, but even her family had admitted after a while that they had never gotten along better than since she had moved away.

Leaving for Germany the first time had felt like burning bridges. She thought that going back would be like building a new one.

If they did go back, Vanessa had to remind herself. Nothing was certain. Too much hope was dangerous.

Still.

She picked up her phone again, and promised herself it would be the last time as she hit play on the video.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two people left kudos on the first chapter and honestly it was more than I expected so THANK YOU for being here. I love you.  
> We're still very much in the introduction phase~

**Newt**

 

He knew where he was, but the scanner still felt too small and too dark. Newt was sweating, and the smell reminded him of hundreds of bodies pressed close to him as they listened to the sounds of destruction just above their heads. As they waited for the verdict on whether they would live or die. The vibrations of the scanner added to the illusion, resembling a little too much for comfort the tremors caused by giant footsteps.

Still. Newt knew where he was. He could deal with it. He was a rockstar. He had survived drifting with a kaiju. He wasn't going to be scared by something as silly as a CT scan.

He started looking for songs he knew by heart, singing them in his head and adapting his breathing to their rhythm.

In the time it took for the scan to be completed, he had gone through a few pop songs, the entirety of Bohemian Rhapsody and some of the old rock classics his uncle used to listen to. He had also realized he still remembered some of the German punk numbers he had held onto as a token of home during his time at MIT, and that he could still sing one of the Code Geass openings, despite having never learned to speak Japanese. He had always meant to get to it someday, had even seriously considered it between his fourth and fifth doctorates. But languages were hard. Like, stupidly hard, for some reason. And he was still bilingual, so that should count for something, even if his German had become saddeningly limited.

Singing helped to distract him, for a while. But he still wanted to move. He needed to move like he needed to breathe. He knew he shouldn't, he knew that it would only make things worse because he would be forced to re-do the scan from the start. But rationality didn't stop all of his instincts from thinking that he needed to _get out_ , claw his way out and into the open, where he could see threats coming and _defend himself_

“Nope. Not doing this, buddy,” Newt told himself, unable to think of another song he knew the words to. “You're not a predator. You're a tiny human with terrible eyesight and the muscles of a six-year old. So you're going to be a good boy and lie in this tube without moving a finger, and you're going to be _fine_.”

This scan was stupid anyway. There was almost no chance that their neurological readings would have gotten back to baseline in just a night, but there was also no chance that anybody in the Shatterdome would be able to analyse the results. They had nothing to compare them to, because nobody had drifted with a freaking _hivemind_ before.

Sure, people could make theories. But you would need a genius to be able to come even close to the truth. A genius who knew the way the drift system worked like the back of her hand.

They would need a genius like Caitlin Lightcap, the woman who had first made the drift _work_. They needed Caitlin Lightcap, but Lightcap was dead, because humanity couldn't have nice things.

Hermann and Newt himself were probably the next best things but... Newt wasn't sure he was up to the task, if he was quite honest. The kaiju might be gone, the War might have been won, but Newt wasn't sure he had ever been more scared than now.

He had been the one to set up the PONs system that enabled the threeway, interspecies drift. He knew how bad his own situation could be. Normal systems enabled communication between two similar, compatible consciousnesses and the neutral, blank pseudo-consciousness of the Jaeger. But for his drift with the kaiju, Newt had needed to lower the compatibility threshold and allow for a much heavier flow of data than would have been normally treated. _Alien_ data, which had flooded his and Hermann's brains. How much had their neural pathways needed to adapt to be able to process even a fragment of this data? Would these adaptations be permanent or not?

And what if Hannibal Chau had been right? What if Otachi had really been looking for him through the remnants of their drift connection? Did it mean that he and Hermann could still be connected to the Hive?

Would the connection be able to hold even with the Breach closed? Newt guessed that Hermann might have opinions about that, since he had spent so long studying the Breach's structure. He should ask, sometime. Maybe Hermann would be nice enough to lie and tell him that the probability wasn't high enough to worry about. _Ah_. It was a nice thought to entertain.

Newt wondered how well Hermann was handling the situation. He didn't seem to realize the mannerisms he had picked up from Newt's side of the drift. Newt wasn't sure if Hermann was aware of how dangerous this could be. If they were being so heavily influenced by each other just from one drift together, the effects of the kaiju could be counted on to be much worse.

Grimly, Newt considered the fact that he had drifted with the kaiju _twice_.

 

The soft _ping_ and crackling of the intercome that let him know his scan was over came at just the right moment. Newt genuinely wasn't sure if he would have been able to stay still for much longer.

The machine slowly opened, and he had to blink several times against the harsh fluorescent lights of the room. Once he was handed his glasses, he avoided the gazes of all the medical staff, whispered a quick thank you, and got out of the room as quickly as his wobbly legs would allow.

The medical staff weren't a threat. There was nothing there for him to claw through. He was safe, he was _fine_ and, most importantly, he was human. Yeah. He was rocking this.

 

Done with his second scan, Newt walked to the mess hall to grab something to eat that wasn't soy milk and stale biscuits. He was hoping to see Hermann there, but either the man wasn't done with his own medical tests, or he had already headed back to his room or the lab. It wouldn't be atypical behaviour.

As he looked around the room, searching with increasing desperation for someone who wasn't there, Newt was hit by a sense of longing so sudden and powerful that he almost dropped his tray. Sitting down at the nearest empty table, he took some time to assess his own feelings.

He was thinking of a woman. A woman in her early twenties, with dark skin and long braided hair. He recognized her as Vanessa, Hermann's wife, although a much younger Vanessa than the woman Newt had met a few years ago. The Vanessa of then had had her hair shaved close, and wore contact lenses instead of the oval glasses Newt could now imagine her with.

This was Hermann's Vanessa. This was Hermann's memory of the Vanessa he had met at university. The sense of longing he had felt was Hermann's own desire to see his wife again.

Newt felt sick. This wasn't something he should have been privy too. This wasn't something Hermann would ever have thought to share. It was one thing to have glimpsed some of the man's memories in the flow of the drift, but another thing entirely to be experiencing Hermann's most private feelings outside of it.

_Fuck._

His food was looking a lot less appetizing than it had just a few minutes ago. He toyed with it for a while, lost in thoughts that weren't his. The more he tried not to pry, the more Hermann's memories flooded into his mind.

Twenty minutes and a splitting headache later, Newt shoveled all of his food into his mouth as fast as he could, not caring about how any of it tasted, and put his dirty tray in a dedicated rack.

He was three steps away from the door when a hand on his upper arm stopped him.

“Hey man! We missed you at the party yesterday!”

The voice belonged to Tendo Choi, who was looking exhausted but happy. Newt could sympathize with the first part at least.

“How are you holding up?”

Newt tried to answer and let out a nervous laugh instead. Tendo frowned for a second, so Newt was quick to put on a smile and pretend that nothing had happened. “Me and Hermann got stuck in Medical all night. Supposedly so they could keep an eye on our brain chemistry and make sure we didn't die. I personnally think it was just because the medical staff wanted to hoard more alcohol for themselves. They were in pretty bad shape this morning.”

Tendo relaxed, letting out a laugh of his own. “Well, you're welcome to my quarters tonight if you want. We're having a small-scale repeat of last night with Raleigh and Mako, because they were stuck in the Med Bay too yesterday.”

“I'll... I'll think about it,” Newt said awkwardly. The day before, he would have given anything to go to the party. Right now, he felt shaken. His head was killing him, and he wasn't sure alcohol was advisable in such conditions. “Thanks, man.”

“You're welcome, brother,” Tendo replied, patting him on the shoulder. “Shit, _I_ should be thanking you. You went out on the field during the first attack. Freaking saved the world. That took some guts.”

Newt let out another nervous laugh, running a hand through his hair. “I have no idea what I was fucking thinking.” He could still smell the sweat that had trickled down his face as Otachi came down on the bunker. He could feel his muscles locked in place by fear as a glowing blue tongue swept through the air, looking for _him_ , _it's looking for him, he_ knows _it, he's gonna die, he's gonna die, he's gonna-_

And _there_ was another question for him. How many of his symptoms were caused by PTSD instead of by the process of drifting, and how would he ever learn to make the difference between them?

“Still. Saved the world. Not many people reckless enough to do that.”

Tendo's tone was reassuring. It felt like he could see that Newt was building up a façade, and like he guessed at least part of what was hiding behind it. It wouldn't be surprising considering how close Tendo had been to some of the Jaeger pilots. A pilot without trauma was more the exception than the rule.

“I'm a rockstar.” The words came out more self-depricating than confident, but Newt's smile did turn genuine after a second. After all, he truly _had_ done it. He truly _had_ saved the world. Maybe he'd fucked two of this generation's greatest brains in the process, but who had to know that? He was a rockstar. Yeah.

“See you later then, starboy!” Tendo said with a grin, before leaving him to grab his lunch.

Newt started walking again. He wasn't sure exactly of where he was going. Earlier, he had just wanted to be out of the Medical Bay, and it had been time for lunch so that had seemed like a logical option, but now... He knew going into the city would be too high a risk. First because of the damage done to the infrastructures and the risk of Kaiju Blue contamination, and then because it would trigger too many memories of Otachi and Hannibal Chau. Tendo had called him reckless and... Well, yeah. He was. He had drifted with a piece of kaiju brain using a custom system he had built out of old tech he'd had to steal. If “reckful” had been a word, his actions definitely wouldn't have fit the definition. But even if he was reckless, Newt wasn't _stupid_. He knew that he had his own limits.

He wondered if it wouldn't be better to just go back to his room and get some more rest but... it would feel too empty. Too impersonal. Too much like being alone, which he technically was, but that didn't mean he wanted to _feel_ it.

That only left one option, really.

Entering the lab felt like releasing a breath he'd been holding. It felt like coming home. Which was kind of sad, Newt guessed, but could anyone blame him? This is where he had spent most of his time for the last ten years. Maybe not this lab specifically, but all labs had a similar quality to them.

Newt looked around, at the different vats with floating organs, and at Hermann's dusty blackboard.

There was still work to do.

That, too, felt like coming home.

  
  
**Vanessa**

 

Her phone started ringing, and she slipped across the floor and almost fell in her haste to grab it. It wasn't her proudest moment. But she had been waiting for this.

It wasn't that Vanessa's life revolved around her husband. Quite the opposite. For years, it had revolved around anything and everything _but_ him. Vanessa wasn't going to feel guilty about being so excited to finally talked to the man she loved, not after all the times she had wished he had been there as she aimlessly wandered through her small apartment.

“Hello?” She said as she picked up.

“'Nessa.” Hermann said her name like it was the answer to a riddle. Like it was the exhale after the first puff of a cigarette. He said her name, and just like that Vanessa knew that he missed her just as much as she missed him.

“Hello Hermann.”

She felt tears well up in her eyes. She wondered if she could blame them on a hormone imbalance due to her pregnancy. She was hearing his voice. She was hearing his voice but, unlike all the previous times they had called each other, they had time to talk now. They had time to think. Time to plan. All of time was unfolding before them, because it was _over_.

So, now that they had the time, instead of rushing through everything they had to say to each other, they took a minute just to listen to each other's breathing. Vanessa closed her eyes. Even though they were hundreds of miles away from each other, the moment felt intimate, precious. They were there, and they were alive.

“It's real, right?” Vanessa asked, breaking the silent. “It's true?”

“Yes. It's over. We won the Kaiju War.”

“Thank you.” Vanessa felt more tears building behind her eyes. She knew she wouldn't be able to hold them back for the entirety of this conversation. “Thank you for everything you've done. I... I hated it. I hate you being away. I hated knowing you were in danger. It was so selfish, but I hated it and I... I was so scared that we would lose. That we would all die. I was so scared that we would have lived apart for so long and then just _died_ , on two different continents. But now...” She sat down on her couch and hugged her knees close to her chest with one arm, phone cradled between her ear and her shoulder. “Now I'm glad. I'm glad you did all that. Because you saved the world.”

“I didn't do it on my own, 'Nessa. I played but a small part. There were so many other there. So many others who...”

Hermann cut himself off and Vanessa closed her eyes. “I know. I know Hermann. We'll remember them. _I_ will remember them. But not right now.” A first tear slid down her cheek. “Right now I just want to be selfish a little longer. Right now I want to think about all of those who are alive. We'll have time to remember later. But those who... those who sacrificed themselves. They wanted us to have a future. So I think... I think they would agree. We need to learn how to live in that future first.”

Hermann stayed silent for a few seconds on the other side of the world.

“It feels like a prayer that has been answered. We won the Kaiju War and you're gonna have a baby.”

Vanessa laughed. The sound escaped her mouth like a frightened deer.

Hermann had once explained how he could not _not_ believe in a higher power. Too much of the world made sense for there to be no Rule . He did not, however, believe in any kind of god in the most usual sense of the term. He did not believe in prayer or church rituals. He did not believe in personal gods.

Still, Vanessa had a sense that he had his own ways of trying to communicate with the divine. In the way she imagined his own theology, she thought that the Rule, the power and sense of the universe wanted to be understood. Through his work, Hermann was doing his best to make that wish come true.

“I know. I hope so. None of this feels real.”

She was so happy. She could hear so much hope in Hermann's voice. She had needed that reassurance that she had made the right choice.

After all, when she had decided to keep the baby, it had been mostly her own decision. They had talked about having children before, but those conversations had felt like lifetimes ago, like old daydreams, once they had started losing the War. She hadn't been sure, not entirely, that the Hermann of today would still share the same dreams as the Hermann of ten years ago.

Now she knew. Hermann's voice had curled around the word “baby” with awe and with joy, and she knew that the child would be wanted. It wouldn't just be her own selfish dream. It would be theirs.

Silence settled again. Vanessa could think of none of the thousand things she had wanted to say. It was all lost under the weight of so many years of silence and distance.

Finally, she managed to ask a question.

“Are you coming back?”

 

Hermann sighed, and Vanessa's chest constricted. She had expected this.

“I'm gonna try. But... I'm still under the PPDC's authority. What's left of it. And... there's still work. There's still work to do.”

“There's always work to do, Hermann.” It was a bit of a reproach, but Vanessa hadn't been able to hold herself back.

“I know. Trust me, I know, and I'm gonna try. I miss you so much. But they... I'm needed. There's only two of us in K-Science but there's still so much to do... I can't just _leave_ , not... not right away.”

“I know.” She meant it, even though it hurt. She knew how much his work meant to him. She could never have married him if she hadn't known that. She _admired_ this part of him, even when it broke her heart. And she knew how much this work meant to the world. How important it was.

She wondered what would have happened to her, if she had turned down her first modeling gig, or stopped doing it once she didn't need it to pay for her studies anymore. She wondered what would have happened if she had started working as an engineer, or gone into research. She couldn't imagine herself not being crushed by the pressure of it all.

Not that her job wasn't demanding. It asked for the best of her, always. But science didn't just demand that you do your best. It required that you be _right_. You could work for years and not succeed, and it wouldn't be your fault. But science would take no pity.

“But soon,” Hermann continued. “As soon as I can, Vanessa, I promise.”

“Okay.”

Another moment of silence.

“Tell me how it happened. I want to know how you saved the world.”

 

**Hermann**

 

Hermann leant back in his chair and looked at the bare metal walls of his Shatterdome room. This had been what he had called home for the last ten years.

What a miracle it was, that he had even survived.

Hearing Vanessa's voice, her curiosity and love, Hermann was truly hit by everything he had missed during all this time. He had been busy enough not to feel too homesick, but thinking of going _home,_ to a real home that was _personal_ , it made him ache with want now. He wanted to become a person again, not just a tool, not just a soldier.

He thought of Newton, then. Maybe this was something Hermann had previously refused to see in the man: that his exuberance and loudness was partly a defense mechanism to stay _human_ , to stay himself. Newton didn't like rules. He needed freedom like he needed air. Hermann knew, now. He knew how much it had hurt, being told how to behave, how to dress, how to talk. Hermann knew, now, how much Newt had hated it, how much of himself he had sacrificed just because he was needed, just because he knew he was the best person for this job and this job needed to be done perfectly.

Now, though. Now they were free. And a reckless part of Hermann was telling him to run. That part might have been Newton, or it might have something Hermann would have liked to blame on Newton. There was no telling and, either way, Hermann thought it didn't really matter now. The person he was today would forever be altered by the thought processes and gestures he had acquired from his colleague during the drift. Purity of selfhood was a myth, and he had other things to put energy into than to keep it alive.

Like this newfound freedom.

Hermann wanted to run, to leave the Shatterdome behind, to leave the dead behind, to flee from all the memories. He wanted to see his wife again and pretend that they were still who they had been ten years ago, that their promises still rang with the same truth.

But he knew he couldn't. He knew he wouldn't forgive himself if he did. Hermann knew what the right thing to do was. He could rationalise his purpose. And that meant he had to stay a while longer.

“Hermann?” Vanessa asked, voice tinged with worry. “Are you okay?”

She had asked a question. Yes. Hermann didn't know where to begin.

“I just... a lot... A lot of things happened. I don't know how to tell you all of it.”

“It's okay. You don't have to. If you don't want to.”

But he did want to tell her. He wanted to tell her everything, and for her to understand him like he didn't seem to understand himself anymore.

“You must have learned the big lines of it through the news. A team of Jaeger was sent to drop a nuclear bomb into the Breach and collapse its structure. It was supposed to be a four-Jagers drop, but we lost Cherno Alpha and Crimson Typhoon during the first double event and...”

He told her about Gypsy Danger and Striker Eureka. About Hercules Hansen's broken arm, and how Marshal Pentecost had taken his place despite knowing it would cost him his life. He had to backtrack and tell her about Newton's first drift with the piece of kaiju brain. It was awful, re-living this moment in two perspective, his own fear for his colleagues mingling with the primal horror Newt had felt at the scale of his discovery. The feeling of his own body seizing, and Newton's in his arms. He told her as fast as he could, hiding his desperation, hiding his fear of being abandoned, of being left _alone_ again.

Then he told her about Otachi's baby, the need for a second drift, but a safer one. The need for someone able to find and decode the data humanity needed to survive.

He told her, matter-of-factly, how he had agreed to drift with Newton. He didn't tell her how, really, he had been the one asking, begging him to stay alive. He didn't tell her about how surprised he had been at his own behavior. He had never thought he had that kind of courage, not really. He had enough courage to resist things. To stand his ground. Enough courage to face what his peers thought of him and not budge in his principles.

But he wasn't the kind of man who plunged into the unknown.

Except he had.

Part of his thoughts had been full of doubt. _What if it doesn't work what if it kills him what if we're not compatible what if it makes things worse what if he sees things he shouldn't what if the world ends anyway what if-_

The other part had only been cold certainty. Certainty that Newton would die if he drifted alone. Certainty that his plan would work, if only they had enough information. Certainty that the best person to recognize the right information was him. Certainty that they _had_ to be Drift Compatible. Years of proximity had taught him that.

“What was it like?” Vanessa asked. “Drifting?”

Hermann didn't tell her that the first thing he had glimpsed in the mess of thoughts and emotions had been fear and heartache.

“Like being underwater,” he said instead. “Like being completely submerged under information and knowing that if you release your breath you'll drown. It's not just... You don't just hear thoughts or see memories. I _was_ him. I _was_ the kaiju. I had access to the entirety of a completely different existence as if it had always been my own. I was feeling what they'd been feeling, thinking what they'd been thinking. The kaiju...”

He had to stop to gather his thoughts. Looking into his memories of the drift was like staring into the sun. It was intense enough to be painful.

“They're connected between themselves. The whole species. We didn't just... we didn't just drift with _one_ of them. We were all of them.”

For a second, Hermann was glad Vanessa wasn't in the room. His hand was shaking just thinking about it.

“One human consciousness is already a universe onto itself. It's vast and complex. Kaiju... they might not have dreams, like we do... But they know pain. They know fear. They know rage and hunger. Their lives are painful, and short. And I came to know many of them, all more horrific than the next, in just one instant. I've felt all their lives and their deaths.” He breathed, in and out. “And through them, the precursors.”

“The precursors?”

Of course, Vanessa wouldn't know about them. No one knew about them except him, Newton and Hercules Hansen, now that Marshall Pentecost was dead. Perhaps Raleigh Becket, if he had glimpsed enough of the Anteverse.

“Other... beings. From their world. I can't...” Hermann thought of eyes watching him, judging him, of pain across his body as he was sculpted to please this being, as a consciousness whispered to him and urged him to _destroy destroy destroy_. “I can't...”

“It's okay,” Vanessa whispered through the phone. Hermann breathed again. “You're okay.”

“We found the information we needed. In the drift. We found out why all of our previous attacks had failed. You need a key for the Breach to let you go down its throat. You need a kaiju's genetic code.”

“Wow. How did you do that?”

“Gypsy Danger and Striker Eureka were already engaged by the time we managed to let them know. Striker... Ranger Hansen and Marshal Pentecost sacrificed themselves. They detonated the nuclear bomb that had been meant for the Breach to eliminate the kaiju that had been protecting it. Gypsy Danger's core was nuclear so... Rangers Mori and Becket fought with the last surviving kaiju and dragged it through the Breach so they would be able to cross it as well. Then they detonated their core. They were the only rangers to survive.”

 _Grieve later_ , Vanessa had said. But even she seemed shaken.

“You wanted to know.” Hermann felt exhaustion settle into his bones, even though it was only midday.

“I want to go back to Berlin.”

The statement was so surprising in this context that he jolted a little. “What?”

“England is just... I'm glad I got to be with my family through all of this but... This country is too full of ghosts. I think I want to go back to Germany. But not... Only if you want to as well.”

“I hadn't... I hadn't thought about it. But we can try to find a new place while I'm still in Hong Kong. And if we don't... If we don't find anything I guess we could always stay with Karla for a little while.”

His sister Karla lived on the edge of the city, in a house she shared with her girlfriend and another couple. Hermann got on very well with her, and would love to see her again, but he also knew that visiting her meant she would push him to see the rest of their family. Whatever Karla said, and however much Hermann wanted to see his mother again, talking with his father was out of the question. Not when the man had abandoned the Jaeger Programm to support the Wall of Life project. Not when he had followed money on a path that had almost lead to the planet's extinction, and then hadn't even had the decency to apologize for it.

Still, he missed his mother and his siblings. He missed the loudness of family dinners when Dietrich's kids would play with Bastien's daughter. If they were in Berlin, maybe he could arrange something. Meet with them outside of the family house, without his father's knowledge. It wouldn't be so bad.

“I'll start looking,” Vanessa said, knowing all too well how complicated his family situation was. “I'll send you what I find.”

“I love you, Vanessa.”

She laughed at that, maybe startled at the suddenness of it. Hermann usually wasn't one for big declarations.

“I love you too.”

They hung up soon after. Hermann noticed he had unconsciously started drumming his fingers against his desk and forced himself to stop.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very sorry for all the pain I managed to put in this chapter, but you'll see the end is very cute!!

**HERMANN**

 

In the days that followed Operation Pitfall, Hercules Hansen took chage of the PPDC. It was amazing how quickly the money flooded back into their hands, now that the War was over and the government needed to make themselves look good to their citizens again. The Jaeger programm was no longer a failing system that had disappointed the population. It was a heroic group of people who had made enormous sacrifices to save all of humanity. It had once again reached its previous status as a symbol of international solidarity. Any politician in their right mind obviously wanted a piece of that.

The heads of every PPDC division – which included Newt and Hermann as leaders of K-Science - had been invited to a meeting with United Nations representatives. The general response to this invitation had been a despising scoff. Although most people agreed that the PPDC would still have a role to play in the coming years, the Wall of Life disaster had created a rift between the organisation and world governments. This meant they would have to find a way to establish the PPDC as an international institution without government support, and Hermann didn't envy Marshall Hansen the task.

Diplomacy had never been Hermann's forte.

Still, the United Nations invitation had urged him and Newton to seek out the Marshall for a private meeting on the future of K-Science in particular.

“I'm not gonna beat around the bush here,” Newton started in his usually brash manner. “But like... We need to keep K-Sci running. This division should be a priority and I know I've been saying this for years, but it's _important_.”

Marshall Hansen started rubbing his forehead, as if warding off an incoming headache. It was how Hermann often thought about Newton too.

“I know, Dr. Geiszler. I know and, trust me, I'm going to do my best to keep this Shatterdome running so you can access your lab but... Realistically, this base is going to be shut down sooner than later.”

“You don't understand.” Newton was already raising his voice, but Hermann couldn't really fault him. Drifting with the Hivemind had kept alive in them the sense of urgency that most people had lost with the news of their victory. “I know we've all been looking the other way and celebrating and that's _fine_ , that's _normal_ , we're all human beings who enjoy the-world-is-no-longer-ending parties, but the Breach? The Breach was opened on purpose by beings from another world. _Was opened_. Like... it didn't do it on its own. The Precursors? If they really want to invade this world, they won't stop now. They'll open a new Breach. They'll send new kaiju. Or something else. Something worse. We might have closed one Breach, but _they know where to find us._ ” Newton stopped, needing to find his breath again. He turned to Hermann, who had previously been standing silently beside him.

“Dr. Geiszler is right. The possibility that a new Breach will open is well above zero. And if we want to be able to defend ourselves... K-Science is still one of our best assets.”

“See? Even Hermann agrees with me. If this doesn't tell you how important this division is, I don't know what will.”

Hermann rolled his eyes. He happened to agree with Newton quite often, but the man was absolutely insufferable everytime he let him know.

“Also, in my case specifically, we have to act quickly. We have a very limited amount of kaiju samples, and they can corrupt over time. I mean, shoutout to the people in Vladivostok 'cause they revolutionised organ preservation, but even their technique isn't perfect. And that's without taking into account the fact that a lot of the samples we get are already damaged by bad storage conditions before they get to us. So what I mean is...”

Newton trailed off then, and turned towards Hermann.

“We need help,” he continued after a pause. “We need funds. We need time. We need facilities. We need _people._ There's too much at stakes here for Hermann and me to be handling it on our own, and we...”

He trailed off again. This time, Hermann knew what Newt wanted him to say.

“We need to rest.”

Newton looked grateful. Hermann understood where the feeling was coming from. They had both been working for so long with barely any time for themselves, and in those days they had been okay with it, they had even been thankful. They had been given a chance to continue their work, the most important work of their lives, and they were determined not to waste that opportunity.  
But now... Now it was dawning on them both how painful it had all been. But that was difficult to say out loud. It was very hard to admit that they were human after all.

“I hear what you're saying, doctors,” Marshall Hansen replied with a sigh. He looked much too human himself in this moment. “I hear what you're saying, and trust me when I say that I'm going to try to keep your division running in the best possible conditions for as long as I can. But the chance is still very high that we won't be able to afford keeping things as they are. You deserve my total honesty, so I'll say it plainly: your best bet right now is to make arrangements to transfer your research to academic circles.” Hermann and Newton shared a glance. They had both worked within academia before, they knew very well what the limits of that system were. “I admire you both. I know you're not military to your core, but you stayed with the PPDC until the end, despite awful conditions, because you believed in what we were doing. You saved us. I admire you, and I'm glad to hear that you're devoted to continuing this work. But you also both have lives outside of this. And I can't ask you to put them on hold any longer.”

“But,” Newton blurted out. “We just told you! There's so much work to-”

“I told you that I heard what you were saying, Dr. Geiszler. But there's no way we'll be able to support or _pay_ our K-Science division for much more than a month, at least not if we want to stay independent. And definitely not if we need to hire more people to help. We're working on alternatives. But in the meantime I would advise you to finish what you absolutely need to do here and then _leave_. We'll stay in touch with you. Trust me, by now we know how valuable you are.”

Newton was still fuming. Hermann knew that he had hoped to secure the promise that a new team would join them, so that they could pass on their research while they took some time to visit their family, and then get back to work as usual. Instead he had been told that he had even less time than they'd expected, and that they were on their own.

Hermann put a hand on one of his shoulders, and felt Newton immediately relax. He frowned slightly, but stayed in place, turning towards Marshall Hansen. He was watching them both with understanding in his eyes, though Hermann couldn't be sure what that understanding was directed at.

“Thank you for your time,” Hermann said.

Marshall Hansen nodded, and Hermann did the same. He turned to leave, Newt in tow.

 

It was late enough that they could have headed to the mess hall for dinner, but Hermann thought they needed to have a private conversation. So he lead them to their lab instead. As they walked, the sound of his cane echoed through the empty halls.

It had only been three days.

Only three days, and already people had started leaving. Enough people that it was noticeable.

When they finally entered the lab, Newton immediately went to his side of it, turning his back on Hermann to pick up some notes that had been left haphazard on his desk.

It took him a moment to notice Hermann's gaze on his neck.

“What?” He snapped.

Hermann stilled. “I wanted to speak with you.”

“Sure,” Newton replied with fake cheer before leaning back against his deck in a poor imitation of casualness. “What's up?”

“We can't go on like this.”

“Of course,” Newton said, before turning away and ignoring him once more.

Hermann forced himself not to start shouting immediately, forced himself to think of another way for this to go.

“I'm not against you in this, Newton. You know that. I've never been against you.”

“You sure have a nice way to show it!” The other man snarled, not bothering to look in his direction.

Hermann froze under the assault of a memory, under the sound of his own voice: _And that is when he goes... completely insane._ He heard it and felt the words bite at his skin, because they reminded him of so many times the same adjective had been used to describe him, but also because they came from _Hermann_ , Hermann, who was supposed to _get it_ , who was supposed to be _better_ than all of them.

“I didn't mean it like that. You know I didn't.”

“I don't know shit, Hermann!” Newton shouted, finally looking back. “I don't know shit anymore because all of my thoughts are jumbled up with yours and memories of the kaiju, and figuring out where all these different urges come from, figuring out what _I_ actually think takes an eternity and it's driving me up the wall because _I need to be able to think!_ That's all I'm freaking good for! And I can't do it anymore!”

“I know! Do you think it's not the same with me? Do you think it doesn't scares me too, all the things I know about you? All the things I know about the kaijus? But that's why you need to listen!” They were both shouting now, and that felt familiar, reassuring. But a fight wasn't what Hermann was looking for. “You won't get anywhere by acting like this. By _lashing out_. We both need to take time and figure out how we can fix ourselves before we can do any work of value.”

“Oh my god, Hermann, I can't believe I have to say this. We're not _broken_. Like, theoretically? We're _better_ know. We're two people with massive intellects, possibly the two best scientists of our generation, and now we have access to each other's knowledge and that should make us _amazing_. That's how it's supposed to work. But no, instead we're just two idiots left shouting at each other because we can't work anymore and all the cool side-effects have been replaced by horrible PTSD and they're taking our lab and...”

“NEWTON!” Hermann interrupted his colleague's rambling before it turned into a full-on monologue. This wasn't how he wanted things to go. He was _tired_ of the fights, as comforting as they felt. “We drifted with a _kaiju_. We drifted with a kaiju using substandard equipment and while already exhausted and on edge. You did it _twice._ Of course it's going to have consequences. Of course these consequences will be unpleasant.”

“I know! I'm not an idiot, damnit,” Newton said, stepping closer and right into Hermann's comfort zone. “But right now I need to be able to work. Because nobody _else_ is going to get this done, and because we don't have enough time, and because I'm not myself if I'm not working. Because if I stop working I'll start missing a wife I don't actually have, Hermann! If I stop working, I'll start thinking about how I haven't seen my mother in fifteen years, my dad in eight, and how my uncle died three years ago and I was enough of an idiot to think that making the trip overseas for his funeral wasn't worth it, so what kind of home does that leave me with except for here?”

Hermann could feel Newt's pain, his anger. Anger at his mother for leaving him when he was a child, for becoming a distant relative, a stranger he was scared he still felt indebted to. Disappointment, too. Guilt. Grief for his uncle's death, for the one man who had ever truly managed to make him understand what home and family meant. For the man who had taken him in when he had moved to the States to go to MIT, the man who had listened to him like he was brilliant instead of just _weird_. And _pain_ , pain caused by the realisation that time had passed, that he would see his father again and they would be strangers to one another.

So that was where Hermann's own bitterness at the idea of going home came from. It was _Newton_ 's.

That was what it meant to be connected by the Drift. That was what pilots meant when they talked of becoming something _bigger_ than themselves. But did they all feel so lost? Torn between two halves of who they had become, not knowing where to turn to find who they used to be, not knowing whether it would even be worth it?

“Then let's talk,” Hermann pleaded. “Let's figure things out together. I'm confused too, Newton, and we won't ever be able to leave the War behind if we don't sort out this confusion first. And that means we can't lock each other out. So let's talk.”

“But what do we say, Hermann? What could we possibly say to each other? We've never known how to actually _talk_.”

They crossed gaze, and the anger dropped as quickly as it had risen. They both knew what Newton was talking about. They both knew he was referencing the time when they _did_ know how to communicate, the time of their written correspondance, of long and thought-out e-mails as well as short hurried ones, because they had needed to _share_ things. They had needed for someone to _understand._

Hermann tightened his grip on his cane. This was still a moment of his life he did not like to think about. The wound was still fresh, in a way. It re-opened with each of their arguments. It manifested again in the bitter taste of disappointment every time they started shouting, because they knew they could never be what the other had expected from them.

“We can find a way.”

The saddest thing, to Hermann, was that they hadn't tried until then.

  
  
**NEWT**

 

The halls of the Shatterdome got emptier and emptier over time, but the lab was still the same. Every day Newton would come in and find Hermann already there, revising his theories again and again, fingers covered in chalk. It was an anchor. A proof that they could go on without leaving everything behind. Newt feared the blank page. He feared stepping into a new world he didn't know anything about anymore. And so he held on tight.

They had tried to follow Hermann's advice, tried to talk to each other more, about their respective memories and what they had seen in the drift. It had worked and it hadn't, both at the same time. Sharing things out of the blue still felt impossible, unnatural. They were too used to confrontations, too used to communicating through shouting matches for years and years. They were too used to keeping their deepest selves secret.

It was almost an instinctive reaction, in the face of the drift and all that it had revealed, to want to lock the other out, keep as much as possible in. Newt thought he was ready to dabble in philosophy, after such an experience, wondering if the essence of the self was not built on secrets, on what was never shared with the Other.

But when Newt felt lost, when he couldn't tell if what he was feeling was truly himself or not, when he needed someone to tell him who he was or walk him through his ideas, Hermann would be there. And Newt would be there for him in return, when pretending that they were completely separate beings became too hard.

Those conversations always felt like they were taking place out of time. They were little moments that happened in another reality, to different people. Small moments where their minds overlapped before being forced to finally break apart for good.

Two weeks after Pitfall, Newt finally thought his brain had stabilized slightly. It no longer felt like it was filled with goo, like every thought he formed was too slow and precise to ever lead anywhere. His work was finally going somewhere.

Hansen had refused to give him permission to loot Hannibal Chau's lab, but one day three new jars of perfectly conserved organs were waiting for him in a corner of his and Hermann's shared lab. There was even a whole _lung_ , in almost pristine condition!

It was difficult to stay focused on one area of research only, but given their limited time, he had figured out that his research on the kaiju's DNA and how they were built was the most important. If their genetic codes were so similar, there had to be a way for him to find a logic in their difference. And if he managed to do that, he might manage to find a weakness, one that would apply to all kaiju. And that would mean they would be prepared if the Breach ever opened again.

_When_ the Breach opened again.

The Precursors would not stop. They would not stop for the same reason that the PPDC hadn't stopped, even when world governments started abandonning them one by one. They would not stop because they were _desperate_. Their world was dying. Their world was dying, and Earth was ripe, was there, was almost _perfect_ for them.

They would not stop. They would be back.

This certainty kept Newt awake at night, lost in a sea of conflicting feelings that even Hermann, shouldn't, _couldn't_ know about.

There was a space missing inside his thoughts, and that space was the size of another world. He longed for it, and he was terrified of it. The promise of knowledge and of belonging crystallised in his mind in the shape of Otachi and its luminescent tongue. Something fascinating, awe-inspiring, and something that could kill him. Something that could kill not just Jaeger pilots. Not just random civilians. It could actually kill _him_ , Newton Geiszler.

And this thing, this monster that his human fears took the shape of... It was scared of the precursors.

Newt shivered. From across the lab, Hermann threw him a look, probably wondering whether this was a memory they had to talk about. But Newt wasn't confused. Just scared shitless. So he shook his head.

 

Then, a week later, Hermann said he would be leaving.

Newt knew it had to happen, of course he did. Hermann had a wife to go back to. He had a family, and much of his work could be done easily from home. He didn't need as many tools as Newt. He had no reason to stay here. So when Hermann announced that Vanessa had found an apartment and that he would be moving back to Berlin in a few days, Newt just nodded.

“That's nice. I'm happy for you both.”

Hermann looked away for a second, as if gathering his thoughts or his courage. Then he reached inside of his pocket and handed Newt a piece of paper.

“You already know how to contact me. But... if you ever find yourself in Berlin...”

He trailed off, and Newt looked up at him. Hermann's face was blank, as if he was forcing his emotions not to betray him. Newt opened the piece of paper to find a postal adress scrawled inside.

This felt like an olive branch. This felt like an admission that there had never been any true war between them.

“Okay,” he said to Hermann, and put the piece of paper in his back pocket. The other man nodded, and crossed the lab again, going back to work.

Newt tried to focus on his microscope. He really did. But his thoughts kept going back to the adress on a piece of paper, and to what Hermann might have meant by it. Was Newt suppose to... drop by and visit? Have dinner with Hermann's wife and pretend he didn't know how she drank her coffee or what she sounded like when she orgasmed? Was he supposed to talk to them about the weather, about politics? Was he supposed to pretend that he and Hermann shared a normal relationship, that they were work friends, that they hadn't shared each other's memories, hadn't broken each other's hearts, didn't have so much history between them?

In truth, Newt knew what this address was for. It was in case he needed it. And he didn't want to need it. He was a grown man, a scientist, a genius. He would be fine on his own. He and Hermann had been forced together for seven years, but it was time for each of them to go their own way. This was how it had always been supposed to happen.

 

Four days later, Newt came into the lab and it was empty. He settled down to work, and got distracted enough that an hour passed.

And then he realised that Hermann wasn't there, and his brain immediately jumped to the most far-fetched conclusion. Something must have happened to him, he must have been kidnapped, he must have been-

And then Newt realised.

_Oh. Right_.

Today was the big day. He had the lab to himself now. He could do as he pleased, put his music on as loud as he wanted to.

Did he want to?

Newt felt himself be drawn to Hermann's side of the lab. His chalkboards had been erased, because of course Hermann would clean up before he left. Of course.

Newt picked up a piece of chalk and twirled it between his fingers. Calculations were running through his mind. Still - the piece of chalk only a few milimeters away from the board – he dropped it again.

They were moving on. This was good. This was the right thing.

Hermann had grown restless, distracted, over the past few days. He would write and re-write the same equation over and over, or get lost in memories. Newt had had to intervene when he had seen Hermann try to draw a graph with his left hand, even though he was right-handed.

Newt had told him to get his shit together, and of course it had evolved into a shouting match, but he was confident that they had both felt much better afterwards.

Hermann had needed to leave. In the same way that Newt still needed more time to make peace with the place, Hermann had needed less. And wasn't that a paradox?

Newt had been the one who had hated the military, who had delayed joining until it had been obvious that they were the organisation who would provide the most useful research facilities, and make the most of his work. Newt had been the one who had never been able to feel comfortable within the PPDC's rigid hierarchy, who had resented calling people by their position and done all he could to make his opinions clear about all of that. Hermann, on the other hand, had liked the sense of organisation, the idea of fitting within a broader mechanism. He liked the sense of certainty and order than came from it. Hermann had liked the feeling of security that came with hierarchy that worked _with_ you, and Newt had snapped at him, telling him that that was only because he had never known how hard it was to have it work _against_ you.

(But that wasn't entirely true, because Hermann was Lars Gottlieb's son, because he had been as much of a _weird_ child as Newt, because he was a disabled man navigating a society never built with him in mind. Newt could realise now how stupid he had been to ignore all of that.)

Still. Hermann had fitted in easily. Newt had rebelled. Now Hermann was gone, and Newt was terrified to leave.

Newt stood up. He was thinking too much. Which should have been a relief, because it meant his brain felt like his own again, but was also more an annoyance than anything else right now. He turned towards the musical corner of the lab, a half-forgotten dust-covered place in which he had dumped his keyboard and guitar because there wasn't enough space in his room. Tendo had once brought a small amp, a mic, and its stand, half as a joke, and they had ended up organising a J-Tech/K-Science karaoke that Newt was sure held a high place in a lot of personal histories.

He powered up the laptop he kept there, an old thing that took ages to boot up, but which held all of his music collection.

They had used to have a system, when there were a dozen of them in the lab, where people would be able to choose what music played for half a day in turns. But somehow, the whole thing had been abandoned and had given place to silence once it had only been him and Hermann left. When he was feeling particularly restless, Newt would still use his headphones, but he hadn't played anything on speakers for months.

He put on an old playlist of his, and started singing along to the pop-punk song that came through. Under his breath at first, then louder, realising once again that he _could_. It felt like a bitter sort of freedom, but it was enough to keep him distracted, at least.

He had saved the world. He was a _rockstar,_ he thought while setting up new samples for analysis. This was his thing, averting the apocalypse through science. And he was going to do it again, because nobody else seemed ready to, because nobody else seemed to take the threat of a Breach re-opening seriously. He would show them. When the Breach re-opened, he would be there and he would show them and-

Wait, no. He would stop it. He would definitely stop it.

Part of Newt wanted to lock himself into his room and scream at the mere idea of new kaiju coming through. Another part  wanted them to come, to find him, to fill the giant hole left in his thoughts. Tapping into the kaiju hivemind had felt like flying. Like an adrenalin rush, like a drug. Like having his narrow mind torn apart only to expand in unimaginable ways and find that he belonged. And then the Breach had been closed and he had been told that this drug wasn't on the market anymore, that he would have to keep his feet on the ground from now on, _sorry dude._

He looked at the cloned DNA in his hand and had to focus very hard on why it would be terribly stupid to try and replicate it. He put his music on louder.

An hours later, he was trying to cross-reference his findings with an old report from the xenobiology department in Anchorage when a loud cough right behind him made him jump from his chair. Newt turned around. He was certain he must look like a deer caught in headlights.

Hermann was standing right in front of him, wearing his trademark collared shirt and sweater combo and looking very unimpressed.

“I came to say goodbye.”

The words were like a cold shower. Newt quickly gestured for Hermann to stay still while he went and turned off the music. The lab was filled with silence once more. Newt turned back around.

Something that had felt wrong all morning was finally set right. Newt realised that he hadn't believed Hermann would leave without a goodbye, and that this was why it had felt so wrong not to find him there in the morning. Something that had been tense inside of Newt had finally snapped, and he was able to breathe easily once more.

Except, now that Hermann was here... this was the end. This was _adieu_. This meant no more shouting matches, no more steaming tea left on his desk in the middle of a rough night, no more familiar smell of chalk and cigarette and old clothes.

They were staring at each other, and Newt started moving from foot to foot.

“So, uh...”

“I...”

They had started speaking at the exact same moment, and Newt giggled childishly. He pointed at his head. “Drift Compatible'd.”

It brought a smile to Hermann's lips.

Newt himself didn't know why he found it so funny. Maybe it had to do with the triviality of the thing. The habits they had picked up from each other as a consequence of the drift had all felt scary, too big, too wrong. This was... silly. Inconsequential. _Nice_ , in a way. Intimate. Knowing that their lives didn't have to revolve only around the huge and terrible things, like they had for so long, was comforting. They could have this. Maybe it would even be easy.

“Indeed,” Hermann nodded. “Keep in touch with me, Newton. We don't...” Hermann looked away slightly. “We don't have to go back to total silence.”

And Newt understood. Just like him, Hermann could hear the quiet in their thoughts.

“I have your e-mail.”

“You do.” Hermann looked around the lab. For the last time. “Thank you, Newt.”

And with that, he turned and started leaving.

Newt instinctively reached out, trying to stop him, to delay him. Grappling for a touch, for a handshake, for a hug. For something more than those three words left hanging like a door half-open and still somehow locked forever. But he drew back his hand.

“You have my e-mail too, asshole!” Newt shouted instead. “And say hi to your wife for me!”

Hermann didn't reply, but stopped in his tracks for half a second. And that was enough.

Once the door was closed, Newt started his music again and went back to work. And if he had to stop working at one point in the afternoon because he could remember a warm hand against his arm, full lips against his and a feminine voice whispering _I love you_ over and over again as a body wrapped around him and made him feel whole, made him feel like his pieces _fit_ , if Newt had to stop working for a little while because he could feel himself getting hard for a woman he didn't know, well... That was fine. That was the kind of thing that _happened_ when you saved the world. Surely Mako had the same problem _all the time_ , her and that giant blond puppy of hers.

 

**VANESSA**

 

She wasn't sure if she had been crying before she saw him or not. But the tears felt like relief rushing down her face, and when he wrapped his arms around her body, Hermann was crying too.

Vanessa pressed her head against his shoulders and breathed in, trying to find something familiar in the smell of sweat and dirt hanging around her husband's clothes. She took a step back after a while, rubbing against her eyes carefully so that her contacts wouldn't be dislodged, then looked at Hermann. His eyes were red from tears too, and tired from six hours of flight. But he smiled at her as they looked at each other, a smile private and sheepish that she had cherished since the first day she had earned it.

“I missed you,” she said, stating the obvious because sometimes you needed that, you needed to say the simple things to remember they were real. She felt her husband cling to her jacket, as if trying to convince himself that _she_ was real. “I love you.”

“I missed you too, Vanessa.”

She smiled, an easy, happy smile. The kind of smile that came to your lips unconsciously when you exchanged a greeting with your crush. It was an exhilarating feeling, being in love and being together. She took Hermann's hand in one of hers and one of his suitcases in the other and started walking. They took a taxi back to their new place, because Vanessa didn't own a car.

Even seated, their joined hands was a point of contact that radiated warmth through her whole body.

They weren't usually this tactile, either of them, but she could feel that Hermann was holding on as tightly as her. Because this is what they'd been missing all these years, the certainty of another's body against one's own.

“I hope you'll like the new place. It's not fancy or anything. But there's an extra room, for an office or a nursery. The living-room is kind of small, but there's a nice view and...” She felt Hermann squeeze her hand. “Sorry. I'm babbling.”

“It's okay,” Hermann replied. He was looking at her like she was a wonder of the universe, a fountain at which he was drinking. All the useless things she wanted to say – she had a habit of babbling when she was nervous – stayed stuck inside of her throat. “I've missed listening to you talk. But you don't need to worry. I've lived in Shatterdome rooms for years now. As long as I have a window I'll be fine.”

It had been five months since they had last seen each other. Five months of hell, for her. Five months of waiting, of feeling useless, now with the added bonus of nausea caused by her pregnancy. But surely five months of hell for him too, five months of desperate work, of retreating inside himself without anyone around to get him out, five months of constant fear.

“Windows. I knew there was something I had forgotten,” she joked.

He rolled his eyes at her, fondly. “You're a terrible person.”

“I know, I do my best.” The cab stopped in front of an apartment block in East Berlin. Vanessa paid the fare, since Hermann only had Hong Kong dollars on him and they watched the car take off. They turned around, and walked to the door of the building. “I couldn't find anything on the ground floor,” Vanessa explained as she pulled out her keys and opened the front door. “But we're only on the second, and the lift is pretty quick. Here...” She walked inside and guided her husband to the lift, up to the second floor, and into their apartment. She let Hermann move past her then, gesturing for him to go inside and explore.

And he did, taking in the new environment with a small smile. Vanessa had only been in the apartment for a few days herself, so it was still quite bare. Unopened boxes were lying in a corner of the living-room, but at least they had everything actually necessary to live: a furnished kitchen, a couch and coffee table, a spatious shower complete with stool and handrails, and a bed to sleep in. A bed to sleep in together. Such a simple thing to be happy about.

They toured the apartment together before stopping in the living-room. Hermann stood a while in front of the east-facing bay-windows. It was this view that had made Vanessa buy the apartment. The way Hermann was looking at it, she felt like he was looking for something, although she could not fathom what.

From the way he was leaning on his cane and the slight tremor of his other hand, Vanessa knew that he was exhausted. And still he stood there, looking at the line of buildings and the small park they lead to, staring at the grey sky above them.

The silence lasted for minutes. Vanessa tried to give him time, to let him adjust. She focused on her breathing, ignoring her own exhaustion. Still, this stillness was scaring her.

Finally, without noticing how long he had stayed motionless, Hermann turned to her with a smile.

“Thank you. It's perfect.”

She smiled in response, although it wasn't as natural as she wanted. “Settle down, okay?” She said, pointing at the couch. “I'll make some tea. Brought it back from England.”

“You're amazing,” Hermann replied. He let himself half-fall onto the couch with a sigh of relief.

Vanessa walked to the kitchen and put the kettle to boil, taking out her box of Oolong tea. Then she swore, realising that their tea-pot was still in one of the boxes in the living-room. She hadn't needed it when she had only been making tea for herself, and had forgotten to take it out.

She stopped in her tracks at the threshold of the next room. Hermann was slowly massaging his left thigh, but that wasn't what made Vanessa pause.

She had forgotten what it was like to walk into a room and for Hermann to just _be there_. It felt like something important enough that she should take the time to appreciate it. She shook herself after a second. She really was becoming much too sentimental for her own taste.

“I forgot the tea-pot here somewhere,” she said, making Hermann look up. “No idea which box it's in, though.”

“I'll help,” Hermann offered.

A few minutes later, they had finally found the pot, and made a mess of the boxes by the same occasion. Vanessa made the tea and put two mugs down on the coffee table, sitting down next to her husband. They would deal with the mess later. They would deal with everything later. They had time.

In this private and comforting setting, she decided to dedicate that time to staring at Hermann. He hadn't changed, and at the same time she knew he had. She thought he was slightly thinner than he used to be, which could easily be explained by all the stress he'd had to work under. But that wasn't really what held her attention.

There was something tense in the way he held himself, something that made her think of a fight-or-flight response. Like he was ready to bolt out of the room at any moment. Or like he expected the need to fight and hold his grounds.

The only thing Vanessa wanted was to keep him here, with her. To keep him safe. Hermann had never been a soldier, and yet he had gone off to war for humanity, while all she did was stay behind and wait. It made her feel sick. She knew there was nothing she could have done anyway, but feeling useless still made her ashamed.

She looked at her husband again. She took in his white skin, pale from too much time spent inside, his cheekbones, high and sharp, the slight crook in his nose and the thin line of his mouth. Crossing gaze with him, she could see that Hermann was observing her in the same way, mapping the lines of her face with his eyes. She moved forward a little and opened her mouth slightly, waiting for him to close the distance.

Hermann did, and when their lips met, it felt soft and warm and like home. Hermann hadn't been able to brush his teeth since stepping on his plane in Hong Kong, but Vanessa didn't really care. Not when it had been so long since she'd had this kind of intimacy with anyone.

Hermann had tried to talk to her about it, years ago when he had joined the Jaeger Academy. He had told her that she didn't have to wait for him, that he would understand if she went to someone else in the meantime, that he trusted her. Vanessa had shushed him at first, but had agreed at his insistance. She wouldn't force herself to be martyred in the name of love, and if she found out that she wanted a more intimate relationship with someone else, she would talk about it with Hermann.

It had happened a few times that she had started getting close with people, had started pondering what-ifs, but in the end she had never gotten together with anyone else. It was a thing she knew about herself. Attraction, whether romantic or sexual, didn't happen often for her. When she had started falling for Hermann, it had taken her by surprise. She had adjusted the words she used to describe herself, going from aromantic to grey-romantic, then she had let herself discover those new feelings and the man she was developping them for.

It had been strange and exciting to feel herself be drawn to someone in such a way. It had also been confusing, frightening even. However, things had become much easier once she had realised that Hermann was nearly as confused and as scared as she was, despite being a few years older. It seemed insane, how young they had been, how quickly it had all happened. How quickly it had all disappeared, once the War had broken out.

Vanessa wasn't sure why she was having such bitter thoughts in this particular instant. She closed her eyes to ward them off, and lost herself to the feeling of warm lips against hers. She put a hand on Hermann's shoulder, finding an angle to deepen the kiss, and he nipped at her lower lip in response. She opened her mouth with a sigh.

She opened her eyes and smiled when they finally pulled away from each other. “The tea is getting cold.”

Hermann gave her another quick peck on the lips before handing her her mug and picking up his. Both of them warmed their hands on their cups and relaxed. It was a familiar ritual.

“It's a little girl,” Vanessa said, out of the blue. “Or at least that's what the doctor said. I had the ultrasound last week.” She put a hand on her bulging stomach. “You didn't ask.”

Her tone wasn't reproachful, exactly, but close to it. After all, her obvious pregnancy was the only thing anyone around her asked about these days. Which was fair. Not a lot of people had decided to bear babies in a time that was defined by War. Even far from the Pacific, the influx of refugees and the strain on world resources had made itself known. Twelve years had been a long time, even if some of them had been hopeful. Not a lot of people wanted to bring children into a world defined by violence.

That meant Vanessa was noticed, even more noticed than pregnant women generally were. And yet, Hermann hadn't asked anything. She had been flattered, in a sense, that Hermann saw only her, and not just the baby she was carrying. But she had been worried, too, that despite everything he'd said he _didn't want_ to see the baby. That he regretted Vanessa's decision.

“I... I didn't know how to,” Hermann admitted. “It's... I'm only realising now that this is really happening. That you're going to have a child. Before, it was... It was happening far away. I couldn't see you. I didn't know if I would still be alive three weeks from now, even less so in four months.”

That last part reassured Vanessa a little. Hermann knew she was due in four months. That meant he had kept track of time.

“And now I'm here and you're...” He gestured awkwardly, looking for a word.

“Looking gorgeous even when my belly is protruding because of the tiny human being currently developing inside it?”

Hermann smiled. “I couldn't have said it better.”

Vanessa rolled her eyes.

“It's... strange.” Hermann continued. “I'm adjusting. But I'm not... I want this. You have to believe me when I say that I want this. That I want you, and I want this child, and I want whatever life ends up throwing at us.”

That was all Vanessa had needed to hear. She pressed another kiss against Hermann's lips, because she could, and because she was happy.

“I'm glad,” she whispered against his skin. She pulled away, then, regaining a slightly more serious expression. “I know it's a lot of news, and that things are going very quickly for you. And I know you haven't been very involved in this pregnancy so far.” Hermann nodded at that, both in bitterness and in apology. “So I know it's kind of selfish of me to pick a name but...” Vanessa trailed off, unsure, even though she had had the debate with herself for days now. “But I do have a name in mind. And obviously if you don't like it we can pick something else, I don't want to pressure you or anything.” She was babbling again, a sure sign of her nerves.

Hermann took one of her hands in his and squeezed slightly. She breathed in, breathed out. “I want to call her Victoria.”

_Victorious one_. It was supposed to be a reminder, something to guide both parents and child through the rest of their lives. A name that said _we did it before, we can win again_. She had thought about it a lot in the past few days, and the name felt right to her. It marked a new beginning, as well as reminding them of the past.

“Victoria.” Hermann said the name aloud, as if he was trying out the feeling of the syllables in his mouth. “It's a beautiful name.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost forgot to post this today, so I'm super sorry if I missed typos or other things! I hope you enjoy this chapter still <3 Thing are starting to come together!!!

**Vanessa**

 

They filled their days with a lot of nothing for a while. Mostly, they basked in each other's presence, tried to re-acquaint themselves with the idea that the other was going to be a fixture in their life.

Any time she came home, Hermann was there, and that was what made the expression ring true : coming _home_.

They made the apartment their own, opening the boxes Vanessa had brought back and building new shelves to put everything in. Hermann called his family: his mother, sister, and two brothers. Not his father, but Vanessa knew he had good reasons for that. She didn't exactly get along with Lars Gottlieb either, and was as happy as Hermann to put off seeing him again. Hermann's sister, Karla, had been storing some books for him for years now, and insisted on coming by the flat to drop them off.

Vanessa was the one who opened the door, and she was immediately wrapped in a tight hug, getting a mouthful of red hair in the process.

“Oh my god, it's so good to see you!” Karla exclaimed in German. Vanessa smiled and returned the hug. Karla was a few years older than Hermann, and the sibling he got along with the most. Vanessa had seen plenty of her across the years, and had come to love her very much too. “I'm so glad you two didn't decide to settle in England for good. I missed you so much!”

“I missed you too, Karla,” Hermann said, standing a few footsteps away and smiling indulgently. Karla immediately skipped over to him to hug him as well, although less tightly than Vanessa. Her brother had always been picky about physical contact.

Vanessa realised that she had genuinely missed Karla. She had missed this part of her family that she shared no blood relation with, but which had still accepted her like one of their own.

“Let me go, let me go!” Karla asked, pushing Hermann away even though she had been the one to initiate the hug. Hermann just rolled his eyes at her. “I need to see what this place looks like!”

Vanessa offered to give her a tour, but Karla shrugged and lead the way, discovering everything for herself. “I'm guessing the office is only temporary?”

“If everything goes well, yes,” Vanessa replied. “It should become Victoria's room-”

“Oh my god!” Karla interrupted her, eyes widening. “You picked a name? You picked the baby's name and you didn't even tell me? I expected this kind of betrayal from you, Hermann, but Vanessa! I thought we were friends! Don't I mean aything to you? How could you not tell me!”

Vanessa laughed, but Hermann just rolled his eyes again. “We made the decision only a few days ago. Calm down. You're the first person we tell.”

“Ah! Well, that's a relief. I'm so happy for you guys!” She forced them both into a group hug. Vanessa was glad to notice Hermann was relaxed next to her, and she squeezed his hand slightly.

Somehow, after that, Karla spent the whole afternoon at their apartment, and even had dinner with them. Her girlfriend was apparently on a business trip, which explained why she had insisted on coming and spending time with them instead of enjoying a day home.

Once she left, it wasn't long before they both got into bed. They hadn't been seeing much of anyone except each other since moving in, being social for a whole afternoon had exhausted them both. It had been nice though.

 

Hermann still kept in touch with what was left of the PPDC, trying to negotiate remote access to specific files as he worked on his Breach model. Although his previous model had been functional enough, he kept insisting it was important he refine it now that he knew how it worked from the other side thanks to the drift. At the same time, he was looking into the possibility of settling back in academia.

In Vanessa's opinion, it was just a matter of him making up his mind. There weren't a lot of universities that would refuse a position to one of this generation's greatest scientists, and a man who had literally helped save the world.

But not everything was that easy. Not everything was perfect, despite what they tried to make each other believe. Vanessa felt tired, sore and irritable. Hermann, on the other hand, was the opposite of tired. He was restless, unfocused and growing more frustrated each day. He would also zone out without reasons, sometimes for several minutes, and wouldn't talk about it with Vanessa. But she wouldn't have that, wouldn't let him fall apart in front of her without doing anything.

They were having breakfast one morning, twelve days after having moved in, the perfect picture of domesticity. Vanessa decided to ask.

“What's going on, Hermann?”

He stopped buttering his toast, looking up with a confused expression. “What do you mean?”

“What's going on with you? Since you've been back you've been... acting weird.” She was finding it hard to put words to the vague feelings that had started worrying her. She didn't want to seem angry or demanding. She just wanted to understand. “I know you're happy here. You tell me you are, and I know it's the truth, I can see it. But at the same time... There are moments when you're just... not there. And sometimes you don't seem like yourself anymore.”

Hermann didn't reply immediately. He stared at her instead, but with something unfocused in his eyes. Immediately, Vanessa wanted to take back everything she had just said, to kiss the words away, to make it all disappear and enjoy things as they were. She wanted to be able to just enjoy having him _back_.

She couldn't imagine what the War had been like in the Shatterdomes. What kind of pressure Hermann had been under. How alone they must have all felt, siding with the resistance, the last hope, with the people forgotten by all those others who had chosen to hide behind a wall. Of course he would come back changed. Of course he would come back different. But right now Hermann didn't just look different, he looked like he didn't know himself, like he didn't know where he was exactly.

“I'm not saying this to hurt you. I just want to understand. And that's why I need you to talk to me. I... I don't want to change you. If something happened, I just... I need to know what's going on if I want to be here for you.”

Hermann let both his hands drop to his lap, hidden by the kitchen table. His expression was serious, almost closed-off.

“I'm not sure,” he said softly. “I don't exactly know what's... wrong with me. It's just that... there are so many thoughts, in my head, constantly, and they keep buzzing and buzzing but it's _not enough_. It's never enough, yet it's too much at the same time, because I don't know which thoughts are mine and which aren't, and I thought I had learned to deal with that, that I had gotten better at just _accepting_ that, but...”

“This is about the drift, isn't it?” Of course. Vanessa had been worried about the War, about life in the Shatterdome, but what was that compared to drifting with the kaiju? What was that compared to experiencing the War on the wrong side of the front lines and feeling what death was like?

Hermann nodded, confirming her suspicions.

“Have you told Newton? Have you talked to him about this?”

Hermann hesitated for a second then shook his head. “I sent him an e-mail yesterday for something work-related but I don't know... what to tell him. I don't know what to say, and I don't really know what he could say in reply either. And he... he hasn't contacted me either.”

Vanessa nodded. She only had a vague idea of the history between the two men. She knew that in the early days of the War, Hermann had started corresponding with a certain Dr. Newton Geiszler, one of the best biologist working on kaiju. She knew that for years they had exchanged e-mails, that Hermann hadn't been able to stop going on and on about how Dr. Geiszler was both brilliant and absolutely infuriating. She knew that they had met, briefly, and that for months afterwards Hermann had refused to talk about the man. That a year later they had been assigned to the same Shatterdome. That the resources allocated to their respective divisions had dwindled from year to year, until they had been relocated to Hong Kong, the last two members of K-Science, sharing the same lab.

This was what Hermann had told her, and on top of that she knew that Hermann trusted Dr. Geiszler enough to drift with him. And she knew that whatever had happened during their first meeting had hurt Hermann quite a lot, which meant that Geiszler mattered to him.

They had a lot of history, and so it didn't surprise her that their relationship was unclear and that they didn't know how to help each other. This was often how things were, with Hermann, if he wasn't pushed to define his own feelings.

“Well. If you can't talk to him... Can you talk to me? What is it like? Is it just... memories?”

Hermann shook his head. “No. It's... When we think of memories, we think of pictures, sounds, smells. But it's not just that. It's all these emotions that come with them, and this sense that you truly are a different person. I thought it was getting better when I left the Shatterdome. I still... I still did things that were more his habits than mine, but I could stop them if I wanted to. But now...” He bit down on his lower lip before continuing. “Sometimes I look in the mirror and the only way I can breathe again is by tracing the pattern of his tattoos on my arms. Sometimes thinking of myself as myself just... hurts. And I'm not sure where the feeling comes from. And then there's... There's the kaiju.”

Vanessa reached out with a hand across the table, offering Hermann her upturned palm. He took it in one of his own and she squeezed slightly. This was the only comfort she could bring right now, while she waited to hear him out.

She had been afraid of this. That the end of the War wouldn't really be the end at all. She had been terrified that the kaiju were still lurking, maybe not at the bottom of the ocean, but at least in their own minds. Propaganda had tried to turned the War into a symbol of global solidarity, all nations pooling their resources together to defend the lives of the citizens of the world. But it hadn't been that, not exactly. Especially not at the end. The disaster that had been the Wall of Life programm had proved how large a part petty politics still played in how things were run, even during times of war.

But even before that, the treatment of refugees or the handling of the ecological crisis caused by kaiju blood pollution had left to be desired. The protests had always been there, only, at the time, the Jaeger programm had been popular enough that most people had ignored them. But after its decomissioning, and after it had saved the whole world anyway, the programm had itself become a symbol of public protest.

Riots were already erupting all across the world. The War wasn't over, it had only changed shape.

Yes, Vanessa had been afraid that the kaiju were still haunting them. Looking at her husband, though, she couldn't help but think she hadn't expected it to happen in quite so literal a fashion.

“The kaijus' memories are... overwhelming. They are...” Hermann looked away from her. “I want to be totally honest with you. They are fascinating, too, in a way. You have to imagine how it feels to be so powerful, how intoxicating it can be. Somedays I can feel buildings collapsing under my footsteps, I can remember holding whole ships in the palm of my hand, making the entire world shake around me, and when I open my eyes... I look at myself and I can't recognise any of that. I look at myself and my body is frail and breakable and I wonder if it's even possible for me to get up and walk when I'm like this. I don't know where I'm standing anymore, Vanessa. I don't even know if I'm standing at all.”

Vanessa felt tears start to drip down her face, and felt angry at herself. She had no right to be the one crying, not when everything she wanted was within arms' reach. She tried to say something, anything, but couldn't find any word that would be of use. She could try and reassure Hermann that he was himself, that she knew who he was, but it wouldn't change a thing about what was happening inside his own mind.

It was usually her role in their relationship to find the words. She knew that and she accepted it. But she didn't have anything to say now. She didn't want to lie and tell Hermann that she understood. She didn't want to lie and tell him that she would make it all okay.

Instead she squeezed his hand harder, holding onto him like she was drowning, holding onto him like she could somehow pull him back here with her.

“Sometimes I can't look at myself. Sometimes I can't look at myself because I feel like hurting something. Me, things around me. Sometimes I look at you and I can't really see _you_. I can only see something I want to destroy. And that scares me, Vanessa. That scares me so much, because if even _you_ can't manage to keep me sane, can't have me stay who I am... I don't know if anything can.”

Vanessa started crying in earnest at that. That fact that Hermann was rubbing little circles across the back of her hand only made things worse. He was still trying to take care of her. Whatever the kaiju told him to do, told him to be, the instincts that were all _his_ kept insisting that he had to take care of her.

She cursed herself. Why couldn't she find the words to make him understand that she was here to take care of him too?

 

**Newt**

 

“You can't stay here anymore, Newt,” said Hercules Hansen, looking frustrated but mostly utterly exhausted.

Newt only cared about the frustration though. The exhaustion was normal, they were all tired. But the frustration? That was unfair. How dare Hansen be frustrated, like _Newt_ was the one acting silly, was the one being illogical? This wasn't right. This wasn't right at all, and nobody seemed to want to _acknowledge this fact_.

“You can't just throw me out!”

Hansen sighed, running a hand across his face. “We can. And we will. This Shatterdome is being bought by a private firm. If we aren't the ones to throw you out, they will be.” He paused. “You have a week. Don't make me come back and say it again.”

And with that, Hansen left the lab. For a second, Newt was frozen in place. Then he clenched his fists, banged them loudly on the closest table, and _screamed_. He didn't care that Hansen could probably still hear him. Good for him, even. Good for him to understand how serious Newt was, how stupid a decision it was to send him away. Newt didn't care if _anyone_ heard him. He just had to let things out somehow.

His throat felt dry and his hands were shaking, but Newt ignored them. He took off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes a little. His entire body was aching. But there was no time to rest. Even less now that a final deadline had been imposed on him.

There was also the fact that he didn't _want_ to sleep. Because anything more than a quick nap brought with it the promise of nightmares, of waking up screaming and wanting to break something.

Newt felt like hell, and he knew he looked it too. Over-caffeinated, over-anxious, over-worked. But stopping wasn't possible. Not when there was still so much he could learn from the kaiju samples. Not when he risked never being able to have access to them again. Not when so much depended on his research.

So Newt put his music on again and went back to work, organizing chemicals, trying to find patterns, running tests and writing down hypotheses. If he took a break, if he stopped, he wouldn't be able to start again. If he stopped, everything would fall apart. If he stopped, he would start losing himself in memories again, and there was a chance he would be lost forever.

Newt hadn't responded to the last of Hermann's emails. His questions hadn't been urgent, and replying would have required Newt to pause his work. He also couldn't bear that every thought of Hermann brought with it an absurd sense of longing he could no longer associate with Hermann's feelings for Vanessa. Because Vanessa and Hermann were together now. They we together and living happily and probably arguing over color schemes for their child's bedroom and that was _good._ Good for them. Newt was totally thrilled that they got to have that.

Except he felt left behind.

Maybe it was the fact that they were using e-mails in the first place. It reminded Newt of the years before their first meeting, when they'd been sending each other news about their works and discussing theories. That time had seemed full of possibility. In those days, finding someone who _understood_ had felt like a miracle. The other's mind had seemed to be the most fascinating thing, except maybe for the Breach, except maybe for the kaiju. In those days, it had felt like Hermann could be everything he had ever wanted, and that Newt could be the same for him.

Maybe the longing he felt was for _that_ particular sense of belonging.

Newt knew it was just a fantasy. They had met each other for the first time and had begun exchanging insults before even trading first names.

They had learned to know each other, though, later. Not just the fantasy versions of themselves, but who they really were. They had learned that even though Newt was kind of an anarchist, really, and Hermann was a little bit _too_ enthusiastic about the military hierarchy, they could still find ways to work together. They had saved the world, after all.

Newt had learned that when Hermann ached for a cigarette, he sometimes switched from tea to coffee. He was easily set-off in those moments. Hermann, on the other hand, had learned that the days on which Newt put on make-up usually followed bad nights. On those occasions, Newt would be looking for a fight, and sometimes it was just easier to give it to him. Newt had learned that Hermann still sometimes unconsciously switched to German when he was particularly exhausted. Hermann had learned that Newt took his coffee black, except when he was working through a whole night and would put milk and sugar in.

So they had been each other's fantasies. And then they had hated each other. But they had also been one another's best friends. So maybe that was what Newt was really longing for. Except he wasn't thinking about that. Not at all. Not when he had work to do and a world to save _again._ Not when people still refused to learn from their mistakes and _listen to him_.

He worked through the night once again. It wasn't even a question whether he would or not at that point. He took a one-hour nap and a shower in his quarters, grabbed some soup from the now nearly-empty mess hall, and then went back to work.

He was trying to find a way to break down the silicon-based components in the kaiju tissues. His theory was that much of the silicone presence was due to the cloning process, and that maybe he could isolate some elements native to the kaiju's natural environment if he broke it down. He was also thinking that, if he found a way to make it work, they could weaponise his findings. Create a bio-weapon that would decompose the kaiju's flesh. Such a weapon would be _terrible_ for science, because it would make sample retrieval even more difficult than it now was. But it would be extremely effective at killing the creatures.

After his encounter with Otachi and its baby, Newt had to admit that his scientific conscience had taken a step back. He had begun to see the appeal of “blowing the kaiju to pieces,” as Ranger Becket had once poetically put it.

Maybe it was also an extreme reaction against the part of him that kind of wanted a new Breach to open. Some sort of preventive measure in case he somehow figured out a way to do something he would later very much regret.

At 5 AM, Newt put his work away and retreated to his room. He woke up at 08:17, body covered in sweat and tangled in his sheets. He got a quick breakfast, came back to his room to shower, and was back in his lab at 09:04.

Two days later, Hansen walked by the lab again. “Four days, Geiszler.”

Newt cringed, and bit back some kind of bitter comment. Things were bad enough. For once in his life, he wouldn't let his attitude make them worse.

He had gotten the message. They wanted him gone, so he would go. He would pack his things, leave them all to rot, and when they came crawling back to him begging to be saved once more, Newt would laugh in their face. That was fine.

Once he had finished one more round of testing, he started packing. It took him two more days to organize all of his files and make sure he would be able to access copies of most of them even outside of the PPDC. Some of those copies were not strictly legal, but well. Newt _had_ admitted to some anarchist leanings after all.

He left clear instructions concerning the transport and storage of the kaiju samples, but didn't have many illusions that they would be respected.

Cleaning his room took him less than an hour. There hadn't been much space for him to sprawl on in there, so he had reserved it for the lab.

He left without looking back, without even taking a last tour of the Shatterdome or saying goodbye to the few people still working there. Hansen would figure things out the next time he came by the lab.

He went to the closest airport as if on autopilot, without having booked a ticket, then waved his PPDC ID around until he was let onto the first plane to Berlin, with a stop in Zurich first.

He was already in the air when he realized he couldn't justify his impulse by saying he wanted to visit his family. Because the only family member he wanted to see was his uncle Illia, whom Newt would only ever be able to visit at the cemetery.

He closed his eyes and fell asleep.

He dreamed of flying. Of a metal body between his claws and the feel of wind against his scales. He dreamed of loss and pain, of knowing what it was like to die, and when a flight attendant shook him awake it felt like a sword cutting through his bones.

“Are you okay, sir?” The flight attendant asked him as Newt blinked and tried to get his eyes to focus again. “You were shaking badly and... you sounded like you were in pain... I...”

Newt waved his hand around, narrowly avoiding hitting the woman in the face. “I'm fine. Sorry. It was nothing.”

All the surrounding passengers were staring at him. For once, he felt thankful that most newspaper stories had only included glamorous shots of Mako and Ranger Becket, and not of him and Hermann. He didn't really want to have to explain to any potential admirer that he was plagued by nightmares.

Newt tried to smile reassuringly at the people around him. His hands were still shaking. He felt cold. And lost. And a little bit like he was about to puke. But, to be honest, that part was expected, what with his terrible eating and sleeping habits these past few days.

“Don't worry,” he cheerfully said to the man sitting next to him. “I'm not gonna puke on you.” The older man didn't reply, but kept his eyes trained on Newt until they reached Zurich. Newt couldn't really be mad at him for it.

 

Finally stepping foot on German soil after some 15 hours of transit, Newt was forced to face the fact he had to figure out what he was gonna do. There wasn't anyone around to shout orders at him anymore. It felt as liberating as it felt terrifying. Being told what to do had been _easy_. Newton was a person with six doctorates. One of the main reasons for that was that, as a young student, he had had no idea what he wanted his future to be. At least not before the kaiju had started attacking the Earth. After K-Day, he had been like everybody else. He had just wanted a future.

Newt walked towards the exit after picking up his suitcase. The messenger bag he had stuffed his computer in bounced against his hip with every step he took, and Newt was acutely aware of the fact that he had slipped the piece of paper with Hermann's new adress in the front pocket. He sighed.

Hermann had said he could come by, right ? He had even _asked_ him to come by. So Newt totally wouldn't be intruding. Right?

Well, except for the fact that Hermann hadn't asked _Vanessa_ whether Newt could come by. And also for the fact that they hadn't talked in weeks so maybe what had appeared like a good idea when they were both working in the Shatterdome would actually be terrible. _If_ it had ever actually seemed like a good idea. Newt wasn't certain of that either.

Suitcase in hand, Newt walked towards the bus stop. He looked through all of his memories, and even through some of Hermann's, to try and figure out which bus line he was supposed to take. In the end he gave up and just asked one of the employees. German felt foreign on his tongue. That was a familiar, if confusing, feeling. After all, he had left Germany for the United States when he had been fourteen, and he and his uncle had only spoken English together from then on. This country had stopped sounding like home a long time ago.

(The fact that he had always found it comforting when Hermann started babbling in German after particularly long work nights told him something else. Hermann had mocked his accent on several occasions when Newt had tried to converse in their native tongues, but Newt had always just shrugged that off.)

Newt thanked the airport employee, climbed on his bus and did his best not to think about anything. He took out his music player and put on some instrumental rock, as loudly as he could. He kept his eyes trained to the window, re-discovering a city he had run away from.

He reached the stop he had been indicated and pulled out a mapping application on his phone. From then on, it was just a matter of following instructions. That, he could do.

 

Ten minutes later, he was standing in front of an apartment building. He looked at the different bells until he found one with a little plaque reading “Lyestone/Gottlieb” next to it. Hand in the air, Newt wondered if this was the right thing to do. Should he have called first? Should he call now? He was already here though... And what if they weren't? Well, Newt could always check into a hotel and figure out his next move later. He had money. Right? To be honest, he had no idea what the PPDC had been paying him for the last few years. Finances hadn't really been that big of a deal when the world had to be saved. At least not his personal finances. Money for the K-Science department? _That_ had been important.

He was still standing in front of the door, immobile. The weight of his messenger bag was starting to hurt his shoulder.

Newt closed his eyes and pressed the bell.

After a few seconds, the intercom crackled to life and a woman's voice made itself heard. “Ja?”

It was Vanessa.

And _fuck_ , there were those feelings again. That incredible softness in his chest and this sense of being safe. The sheer love for her he could feel through Hermann's memories. Newt nearly whimpered. He wanted to hug her so badly it hurt.

He had only met the woman once in his life, except if you counted saying hello to her from across the lab the few times he had caught her and Hermann skyping. Would she even remember him? Hermann had to have talked about him with her, right? They had been colleagues for years. Hermann could never shut up about how Newt was wrong in every conversation they had together or with the higher-ups of the PPDC, so surely he had to have come up in conversations with his wife at least a few times?

“Hello?” came Vanessa's voice again, confused by the lack of answer.

Newt shook himself. “Hi. Sorry. I... uh... My name is Newton Geiszler. I used to work with your husband at the PPDC? He told me I should stop by someday so... Could I come in? Maybe?”

 

**HERMANN**

 

Hermann stood frozen in their small hallway as Vanessa stared at him. Newton was here. After weeks of total silence, he was showing up at his apartment. Hermann almost wanted to laugh, although it was more a nervous reaction than anything else. Should he really have expected something different from Newton, of all people?

“Buzz him in,” Hermann told Vanessa.

She pressed the intercom button again. “We're on the second floor. There's a lift on the left if you want.”

“Awesome! Thanks!” Newton replied.

Hermann looked at his wife, who stared back at him. “What's going on? Did you two start talking again or did he just...?”

Hermann shook his head. “This is Newton. He just... does this kind of things. Sometimes.”

He couldn't help but smile. Timidly, Vanessa did the same.

They heard the lift's door open, so Vanessa opened the door to their apartment. Newton stepped inside.

He looked... awful. A bag was hanging from one his shoulder and he trailed a suitcase behind himself. His hair was a complete mess, even more so than usual. The stuff in it looked more like grease than styling product. There were also dark circles under his eyes, all the more obvious due the unnatural paleness of his skin.

“Hey.” Newton greeted them, now sounding more uncertain than he had on the intercom. He hovered in the doorway, rolling on the ball of his feet and biting his lower lip slightly.

“You look appaling, Newton,” Hermann stated. He wasn't saying it to be mean. Actually, he was feeling quite concerned for his ex-lab partner.

Newton seemed to understand that, because he smiled self-consciously, running a hand through his dirty hair before pulling a face. “Yeah. Well. Fifteen hours of transit will do that to you. That, and working your ass off all on your own in a lab for three weeks.”

Hermann's face fell. “You stayed in Hong Kong all of this time?”

“Um? Well, yeah. The lab was there. Kaiju samples were there. I didn't really have anywhere else to go.”

“Surely fa-” Hermann stopped himself, understanding dawning on him. Of course not. Newt didn't have any family he cared to return to. He had given his life to his work, and now that it had been taken from him... What was he left with?

Vanessa cleared her throat. Easing the tension that had settled at the same time as the silence. “Would you like to come in and have something to drink?” She sent a pointed glance Hermann's way as she said it, making it clear she thought he would do well to remember his manners. It was no use explaining to her that Newt wouldn't be offended for something as inconsequential as that.

“Sure,” Newton said as he stepped in. “Thanks, 'Nessa.”

She shot Hermann a glance behind his back, surprised by the use of the pet name. Hermann was reminded that his wife had only met his ex-colleague once, but that the latter had access to many more memories of her now. It wasn't the time to explain such a thing, though.

She seemed to take things in stride, however, and put Newton's suitcase away in a corner of the living-room while gesturing for Newton to sit on the couch.

“Coffee?” Hermann asked. Newton nodded enthusiastically, as if Hermann had just offered him the most precious thing in the world.

He went through the mecanical gestures of switching the coffee machine on and setting water to boil for a pot of tea as well. He had no idea how to act. Newton was here and Hermann was... happy to see him. He could admit that. He was happy, but also confused and most importantly _worried_. Newton looked like he hadn't slept in days.

He didn't like to consciously pry into the other's memories, but Hermann wanted to know what the situation really was like if Newton had felt like he needed to come to _him_ first thing.

He knew that Newton's mother had left the family when he was still young. He also had a vague idea that his colleague didn't get along with his father. There had been his uncle, but...

“ _It was an accident,” a male voice said. Not his father's voice. Of course not even this would be enough for his father to call him. “I'm sorry for your loss.”_

Hermann felt tears threaten to spill over his face. He clenched his fists as he stared at the coffee machine.

_Would he go to the funeral? He would have to request some leave days. At least two, with how long it took to fly there. Three if he wanted time to rest. Was it worth it?_

_His uncle was dead. He wouldn't care who was or wasn't at his funeral. He couldn't care about anything anymore. Because he was dead._

_If he went to the funeral, Newt wouldn't be going for him. He would be going for the other people there. For his father, who had accused him of betraying the family by pursuing his studies in the States, who had been drinking and going out while Newt made himself dinner and read books at age ten, who had cut bridges a long time ago. For all of his other relatives who would pretend that everything was fine in the family. Who would tell him that they admired his work and judge him on his appearances as they did it, and who would turn the occasion into a source of gossip for their respective groups of friends._

_For his uncle, Newt would have gone to the funeral. But his uncle didn't care anymore, and Newt had more important work to do._

Hermann took a few deep breaths, sculpting his face into an approximation of neutrality.

“Here you go,” he said, coming back into the living-room and handing both Newt and Vanessa a mug of coffee. He went back to the kitchen to fetch the tea-pot and his own mug, and then settled in an armchair. He breathed in, and decided that if he needed to shatter the little peace bubble they were pretending to be in, he might as well do it quickly. “You should have told me you didn't know where to go.”

“I... What?” Newton asked loudly.

Hermann could feel Vanessa's gaze on him, confused and disapproving. “I have your memories, you know. And you came here directly. It's... not difficult to piece things together. Why didn't you tell me?”

“Wow uh... Maybe because it's none of your business? Maybe because I had other things on my mind, like getting as much of my work done as I could?”

There was something sharp in the way he said that last sentence. But Hermann would not apologize for choosing his family over his work, not anymore, not when he had already sacrificed so much.

“Or, I don't know, maybe because we aren't actually chatty with each other?” He retreated slightly on the couch, holding his mug of coffee in front of him as if it would offer some protection. “Maybe because I didn't want to think about it. Like I said. None of your business.”

“Newton...”

“I don't owe you shit.”

Hermann crossed Vanessa's gaze. She made a gesture towards the kitchen, asking them whether they needed some privacy. Hermann shook his head. “What happened?” he asked.

Newton frowned.

“With you,” Hermann specified.

“With me?” His voice cracked slightly on the last word. “Nothing happened.”

“Newton...” Vanessa was reaching a hand towards him, offering comfort. Newton was too busy staring at his cup of coffee to notice, though.

Hermann and Vanessa looked at each other. The former could feel that she was nervous, and he wasn't at ease either. Hermann was barely able to hold _himself_ together. He had no idea what to do with _Newton_. Despite this, Hermann couldn't help but feel responsible. Maybe even guilty. Looking at Newton, he not only saw a man he had been working with for years, someone with whom he had become something akin to friends without exactly noticing. He also saw a person he had left behind.

For a second, Hermann wondered whether he was picking up this feeling of guilt from Newton himself. It wouldn't be too unreasonable to see the fact that Hermann had left as a betrayal. The both of them had stood up against so much together, holding fort as the last remaining members of their division, because they believed that their work was important enough.

Hermann still believed that. He did. And seeing Newton, how unhealthy he looked, he thought he had made the right choice. Or at least he tried to convince himself he had.

The room was silent. Too silent for everything that Hermann associated with _Newton Geiszler_. So he filled that silence.

“You stayed at the Shatterdome after me. You stayed in Hong Kong and you said it was because you wanted to _work_. From the way you look, I'm guessing you haven't slept much in the last few days. You...” He was frozen in place, a thought suddenly occuring to him and... No. He wouldn't have. Except Hermann knew Newton now. And he knew that, in the right circumstances... He definitely would have. “ You didn't seek out Hannibal Chau's stash, did you?”

“What? No! Of course not! Why would I... I mean, no, I get it. I totally would. But not on my own! I'm not an idiot.”

“You were so insistent when you talked to Marshall Hansen! Surely you can't blame me for assuming...”

“Okay, okay, fine! But I didn't. Nothing happened to me. I just worked a lot, okay? Like, I don't know if it's your super-cute domestic life that has blinded you-” Hermann raised an eyebrow at that description. “-but I seem to remember that _you_ were the one who suggested a new Breach could open. And yet I'm the only one doing anything about it!”

Hermann couldn't help it. He snapped. He felt guilty enough on his own, he didn't need _Newton_ of all people to blame him for the world's failings.

“Just because I'm not running myself into the grave,” Hermann replied, too loudly, too angrily. “Doesn't mean I'm not still doing my best!” He was on the defensive, and he hated it. “I'm still working on my theories! But while we wait for more resources and infrastructure, there's no-”

He was interrupted by a loud snort. “You're kidding, right? Resources? We already had close to none when we were in Hong Kong. You know it. But we made do. And we saved the world!”

Hermann crossed his arms over his torso. “I don't have to give you excuses. As you so politely put it, _I don't owe you shit._ ”

Newton laughed at that. It was a full-body thing, but one that felt _wrong_ in its bitterness, more like something inhuman trying to imitate laughter. “Oh, but you are _so full of shit,_ Hermann. And I don't blame you, because part of the fault is probably mine. Because I've been in your brain. And there's nothing you can do about that.”

Hermann could barely recognise the man in front of him. Or maybe he could. This was the man of the early years, the one who had seeked out arguments not because they helped them focus, but because he wanted to _hurt_. It was the man who had shattered illusions with a loud voice and bright tattoos. And Hermann was scared. He was scared, because Newton had never been this man.

_But is there something I can do about you?_

“Trust me, if I could, I would.” Those weren't the right words. Those were the words for a fight, once more. “But I didn't really have a choice, did I?” That was wrong too. He _had_ had a choice. He had made the logical one. “And now I'm trying to live with the consequences. I'm trying to find my own way of living. And I won't let you barge into my home and try to make me feel guilty about that.”

Deep inside, Hermann felt like his outburst had been aimed more at himself than at his colleague. But Newton didn't know that, and Hermann didn't know how to make it better, how to make it right...

“Hermann! Calm down.”

Vanessa was staring at him with something akin to fear in her eyes. Except, for once, she wasn't afraid _for_ but _of_ him. He tried to breathe. He wondered how many more times he would have to see that expression before he finally turned into the monster he was in his dreams.

He unclenched his fists and looked up, meeting Newton's carefully neutral expression.

Hermann wanted to hit something. Or scream. Or just throw the other man out. Except that, somehow, he knew he wouldn't be able to do that.

Walking out of the Shatterdome had been easy, in a way. It was part of a system that Hermann knew was broken. He knew he had needed to step away, to give it time to rebuild into something that was better.

Walking away from this situation, however, wasn't as simple. Hermann knew now that they _couldn't_ walk away from each other. They were in each other's thoughts in more ways than one. Hermann had to admit it now. Not all of this was caused by their drift together. Part of him had missed Newt's presence simply because it had become such an inherent part of his life.

“Neither of you is being rational right now,” Vanessa said, interrupting his thoughts. “You're both letting your emotions get the better of you, and you're not going to get anywhere this way.”

When Hermann looked towards her again, her gaze was determined. There was no more fear in her eyes.

“I'm just a civilian. I don't know what you've both been through, and I don't understand all of what's going on. But I don't think you have to prove each other wrong here. Yes, your work on the Breach and the kaiju is still important. Yes, time is still of the essence. But at the same time, doing nothing but work is unhealthy and _impossible_. You need to rest and be yourself again.” She pointed accusingly at Newt as she said that. The man squirmed under her gaze, looking down at his now-empty coffee cup. “So, right now, I think the best course of action is to eat something. And afterwards I'm sure the two of you can find a way to talk without ripping each other's throats off.” She crossed her arms above her belly. “Got it?”

“Yes,” Newton and Hermann replied at the same time. Newton was looking at Vanessa with something akin to admiration.

“We have almost nothing in the fridge, so I'm just gonna order some pizzas okay? You don't get a say. I have to deal with my pregnancy on top of you two, so I'm damn well gonna indulge my cravings.”


	5. Chapter 5

**VANESSA**

 

Vanessa, Hermann and Newton found themselves sitting around the kitchen table, each with their own pizza box. The atmosphere was heavy.

Vanessa hated this kind of situations. She hated being presented with problems that she couldn't fix.

Hermann had told her before that he and Newton constantly fought while they worked. Still, she couldn't imagine that it was the same kind of fights as what had been happening in her living-room. She also wasn't sure anymore that she understood what Hermann had meant when he had said that things between him and his colleague had been getting better. From where she stood, it seemed like the chances that blood would be drawn at some point during the evening were well above zero.

She sighed. This appartment was supposed to be a safe place. A fresh start. Right now, it felt more like some sort of cage. And she was trapped with two lions.

She took a bite of her pizza, savouring the taste of onions, peppers and spiced ham. If she could focus on the small things, the things that still _worked_ , she would be able to keep her head clear. At least for the evening. At least until the two men worked things out.

She hoped.

She looked at the picture they painted, all three of them eating in silence like this. She was strangely reminded of her college days, sitting with too many people at a too small table eating too cheap pizza. Talking about the universe, about their classes. About the future. All of that seemed far away now.

Vanessa also took the time to observe Newton more closely. They had met once before, during the few years of the Kaiju War when humans had felt hopeful that they would win. The PPDC had thrown some kind of fundraising gala, and Hermann and Newton had both been invited, as heads of their respective divisions. Hermann had introduced them, and the conversation had been civil all evening. Vanessa remembered even laughing a few times. From a conversation with Hermann afterwards, though, she had realised that neither Newton nor her husband had been acting as their normal selves that night. There had been too many important people there, and too much at stakes. Even in those days, the PPDC had had to be careful about resources.

So the man she had met had only been the tamed down, public version of Newton. Vanessa could already see how much he differed from the real person she was now facing. Both versions shared a form of nervous energy, but this Newton's was uncontrolled, almost anxious. The man she had met years ago had been so cheerful he felt almost uneachable. The one in front of her felt so vulnerable she might break him with a caress.

Vanessa finished her slice of pizza and wiped her mouth with one hand. “Okay Newton. I have to ask.” Newton froze mid-chew, looking up. It seemed unnatural to see him so still, his eyes so cold. “Do you know what you're going to do?”

He swallowed and put his half-eaten slice back in the pizza box, fitting it snugly against what was left.

“I don't. I don't know. I don't even know why I came to Berlin in the first place. I mean, I had to get out, because they'll be closing the Hong Kong 'Dome in two days, but...”

“Really?” Hermann had told her the Shatterdome was going to close, but she hadn't expected for it to happen so soon, not with all the value it had as a symbol of the resistance.

“Yeah. It's getting bought by private investors or something. I don't know what they're gonna do with it. Hansen is working his ass off to get some new agreements going so the PPDC can keep existing but... Time will tell, I guess.”

“So you had to leave?” Vanessa asked.

“Yeah. I could have gone anywhere in the world, you know? And instead I just ended up... here. I mean, it's not even as if I was looking for memories or stuff because... Well, I was in the US for most of my life. But yeah. I'm here now. So I'm probably gonna rent a room somewhere until I figure out what I actually want to do with my life.”

He looked down after finishing his tirade, playing with a piece of pineapple on his pizza.

Vanessa didn't look at her husband before replying. “You can always stay here.”

“Uh... what?” was Newt's immediate reaction.

“Vanessa?” was Hermann's, half-surprise and half-betrayal at the fact that he hadn't been consulted.

“The couch is free, so...”

“You don't even know me!” Newton protested. “We've talked to each other like... once? Twice?”

Vanessa nodded. “Once. But I don't care. You know Hermann, and Hermann knows you. And, well. It might not seem like it _now_ but... you trusted each other enough to initiate a drift together. If Hermann can do that with you, I trust you not to destroy my flat by spending the night here.”

Both men stared at her for a while, making her almost self-conscious. But she knew this was the right thing to do. She had been thinking about it since Newton had rung their buzzer. The two of them were dealing with each other's memories, and with memories of the kaiju. They'd had to share the neural load to survive their Drift and now... they had to share the neural load again if they wanted to live with the consequences. They needed each other. It was logical. It was obvious. But Newton and Hermann seemed too blinded by the things they didn't want to see in each other to notice that.

“I don't...” Newton started. “I'm not sure...” He looked at Hermann for help, but the man was frowning at Vanessa.

She slowly took a bite of her pizza.

“Why? Why are you offering this?” Hermann asked.

He knew her, and so he knew that she was like him. She wanted to think rationally about things.

“I'm not going to be subtle about this. I've been thinking and... You get nightmares from the Drift,” she pointed at Hermann, the turned towards Newton. “And from the looks of you, I think you do too. And you're both the only people who could understand what the other is going through.”

It wasn't as if she hadn't tried. It wasn't as if she hadn't tried again and again to reach out to Hermann, to have him talk with her. But she had also come to understand that she probably wouldn't be able to take it all in if he truly did tell her everything. After he had admitted that he sometimes felt like _hurting her_... She hadn't quite been able to look at him the same way again. She hadn't been able to completely strip herself from her fear. But if she wasn't enough, if she couldn't be there... Maybe Newton would.

“Also, you look absolutely terrible, Newton.”

“Thanks,” he muttered.

“I wouldn't feel comfortable knowing you're wandering around Berlin alone in this state. Of course, we can always book you a hotel room if it doesn't work out for any reason. But I'd like to try it. You're already here, it just seems more logical for you to stay at least one night.”

Hermann and Newton looked at each other warily.

“Okay,” they both said at the same time.

Newton threw Hermann a heated gaze. “This is creepy.”

“I think it's adorable,” Vanessa sais playfully, earning herself one of her husband's trademarked eyerolls.

They all went back to their pizza after that. The silence was still heavy, but Vanessa felt like she could bear it just a little bit better. At least she had done something. At least she had tried to help. Whether anything would come of it depended only on the two men at the table with her. She wished she could have done more. This was a feeling she had come to know well during the Kaiju War.

“So. What's the work that's been taking up so much of your energy, Newton?”

“Call me Newt. Hermann is the only one who still doesn't.”

Vanessa nodded with a smile.

“As for my work... I've been studying the kaiju's cellular structure. A lot of kaiju tissue is silicone-based. And since the kaiju are cloned, it's artificial tissue. So I'm trying to find a way to break it down. To help me isolate the source cells. I wanted to do more research on their neuro-chemistry as well, but we only have one piece of brain in the lab and...”

He trailed off, eyes going unfocused. Vanessa's smile dropped. She had seen Hermann take on the same expression several times now. He would be doing something mundane, checking his e-mails or waiting for the kettle to boil, and then freeze for a moment.

She saw that Hermann was staring at Newt as well.

“You do that too, sometimes.” Vanessa said.

It seemed to be enough to pull Newt back from wherever his mind had been wandering, and both men turned to her in surprise. “You just... space out. Start staring at thin air.” She turned towards Newt. “You were just doing it, and it happens to Hermann too.”

“I...” Hermann started, as if to justify himself.

“It's okay. I know you don't do it on purpose. It's the drift. That's why I think Newt should stay. This is a problem you have in common. It will be easier to deal with together. Wasn't that what you were doing before Hermann left?”

Hermann and Newt exchanged a glance. Had they really not realised? Were they really so hellbent on pretending that they didn't need each other? Vanessa barely knew Newt had all, and it was obvious to her. Hermann's nervousness had seemed to fade as soon as Newt had entered the flat, and Newt himself was looking a lot more relaxed now that he'd eaten something.

“Vanessa...” Hermann started but trailed off.

She picked up the empty pizza boxes and put them away. If one of them actually protested, she would hear them out. While they kept hesitating without good reason, however, she would do as she pleased.

“Some more coffee, Newt?”

“Uh... I want to say yes, but I guess I should probably try to... get some sleep tonight?” He seemed to be phrasing it as a question, as if unsure of what was happening. “So no thanks?”

Vanessa nodded. “It's probably more reasonable for me to pass as well.” She put a hand over her belly. She could feel little Victoria kick more and more frequently. She felt her abdomen contract. Even without pain, it was a strange feeling to have her body escape her control like this. But she knew it would be worth it, even if it meant cutting back on caffeine.

“I'll get the couch ready for you. You probably want to shower since you were on the plane so long? The bathroom is in front of the bedroom, you can grab one of our towels in the cupboard if you want.”

“Uh? Yeah. Sure. Thanks.” Newt stood up quickly, shooting Hermann a confused glance as he left. Vanessa saw him rummage in his suitcase for a while before walking to the bathroom.

With a sigh, Vanessa sat back down next to Hermann, and took one of his hands in hers.

“I'm sorry I didn't run all of this by you first. But I really think it's for the best.”

“I guess...” Hermann replied, squeezing her fingers. “I guess I can see where you're coming from.”

“We'll be okay, you know? I mean this...” She gestured all around them, encompassing the whole situation. “This is all gonna be okay. We survived the Kaiju War. We'll be fine.”

Hermann smiled softly, and carefully laid his head on her shoulder.

 

**NEWT**

 

Newt closed his eyes under the shower spray. It had been a long time since he had known the blessing of actual water pressure. If he made an effort, he could just avoid comparing the sensation to that of waves hitting his body, or seeing the bathroom lamp as beacons from helicopters.

He opened his eyes again and picked up a bar of soap at random.

He started washing himself and, not first the first time these past weeks, stopped to stare at the tattoos on his arms. He didn't know how he felt about them anymore. Part of the enthusiasm for the giant creatures that had pushed him to get them in the first place was still there. But part of it had been replaced by a powerful and instinctive fear. In a sense, he felt like they had started to document his personal history more than his awe of the kaiju.

He slowly traced the shapes of the colored ink. Gods and devils etched on his skin. Murderers and victims. Victories and mistakes, all remembered by a human body.

He closed his eyes again as he washed his hair and rinsed off. Then he stepped out of the shower with a sigh. There was a soft carpet under his feet, totally unlike the standard PPDC tiles and Newt felt lost for a moment, before it became comforting.

Yeah. So he wasn't in Hong Kong anymore. He was in Berlin in the brand new apartment of Mr and Mrs Gottlieb. That wasn't strange at all.

He was thankful, though, he really was. Thankful for Vanessa's welcoming smile, and for the fact that Hermann hadn't thrown him out. He could have gone to a hotel. He could still go to one if he wanted to. But hotels were unlived places. They were liminal spaces, temporary stops. After all those years flying from one Shatterdome to the next, Newt felt like he had seen enough of those kinds of places.

This appartment had a life, even if it was just beginning. There was another presence here that wasn't just his own crumbling sense of self. It was comforting.

Newt toweled himself dry, then put on a pair of jogging pants, a soft t-shirt and an old MIT sweater. He looked at himself in the mirror before leaving the bathroom. His hair was flat and sticking to his forehead, and he still had dark bags under his eyes, but somehow he already looked better than he had before his shower. The warm water had reddened his skin a bit, and at least his hair looked dark because of water and not grease.

He carefully folded his dirty clothes, something he would never have done if he had been by himself. Somehow it felt like the right thing to do, and the gestures came naturally.

He finally came out of the bathroom, and found Hermann and Vanessa sitting on the newly-made bed/couch. Hermann was looking over Vanessa's shoulder at what she was showing him on her phone. Newt was surprised to see him so relaxed, so... vulnerable. He was an easy prey.

Newt shook his head.

They didn't look vulnerable. They looked open. They looked at ease. They looked beautiful, like two pieces of a whole.

Newt cleared his throat. Hermann immediately sat up straight, and Vanessa put her phone away. The spell was broken. It always was.

“Thanks for the shower. And the bed. And the food. Uh... Thanks for everything.” He shifted from one foot to the other.

It already felt like too much. Too much he didn't know how to repay. Newt felt lost. He felt like he had just plunged into the unknown with no idea of where to go. He hadn't felt like this since K-Day, when Trespasser had first attacked San Francisco. When he had seen the first images of the monster on television, he had thought that it was a hoax. Then that he was dreaming.

Suddenly, nothing in the world had mattered anymore, because a giant monster had come out of the ocean and was ravaging a major city, and the military couldn't do anything against it.

But even then, Newt had had something to guide him through the unknown. He had wanted to understand, and so he had thrown himself into research about this new monster.

Today he didn't even have that. There were no more kaiju to study, and he no longer even had a research position anywhere.

He was lost, but somehow he was still here. It felt like Hermann and Vanessa had found him. So maybe there was something to guide him, after all. If he allowed himself to follow.

“Do you need anything else?” Vanessa asked.

And god, it was so hard to look at her. Newt could remember so much about her, even though he knew they didn't know each other at all. He wanted to hold her hands, despite knowing that her palm wouldn't fit in his the right way. He wanted to make private jokes about events he wasn't supposed to be privy too. But most of all he wanted not to freak her out, and so he held his tongue.

“No, I think I'm good. I guess I just need some rest.”

“Okay.” Vanessa stood up and gave Hermann a hand to help him do the same. “Just knock on the bedroom door if you need anything.”

Newt nodded and watched them leave the room. Hermann was limping slightly, and Newt could imagine exactly which of his muscles were hurting. Because he had felt it before.

Newt felt cold, suddenly, despite still wearing his sweater. He sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled the comforter across his lap. He stared at the bay windows for a while. Vanessa hadn't closed the curtains yet, and the living-room was partly illuminated by the streetlights outside. He watched some cars drive by in the darkness. This was definitely better than the view of nothing he'd had in the Shatterdome.

Berlin. How long had it been since he'd seen the city? Nine years maybe? And even then, he'd only stayed for a short time.

He knew it was nothing like Hong Kong. Hong Kong was saturation. It was like smoking in the middle of a party, like staring at the sun and then closing your eyes to count the phosphenes.

Berlin was philosophy in bathroom stalls, brightly colored flowers on the balcony of a grey building. It was tracing the path of familiar scars across your own skin, and moving forward despite them.

Newt didn't know how long he stayed there, just watching. He felt tired. Too tired to move and lie down. It was easier to just stay there and wait. Even if he didn't know what he was waiting for.

The apartment was silent. Hermann and Vanessa had brushed their teeth and gone to bed too. Newt was on his own with the thousands of other souls still awake somewhere in the city. The silence felt like an extension of himself, like he was projecting his being on the environment around him. It should have scared him, maybe. Newt just kept on waiting.

When he heard soft footsteps behind him, he wasn't really surprised. He realised that he had been unconsciously expecting them. He turned around and tried to smile at Hermann. The other man just looked at him with a serious expression that didn't really fit the fact that he was in his pajamas.

“Hey,” Newt said softly. He knew that Vanessa was a light sleeper. He pulled on the comforter to free up some space next to him. Hermann carefully sat down on the offered spot. “Couldn't sleep either?”

Hermann stared out of the window, a mirror image of Newt's previous position. “I've found that nights without nightmares have become rare.”

Newt nodded. The nocturnal atmosphere made both of them calmer than they would usually have been. It felt like the volume of their reality had been turned down to be more respectful of their neighbours.

“Sorry I didn't write or call or anything. Before coming here.”

Hermann shrugged. “You weren't sure of what you were going to do until the last moment, were you?”

Newt shook his head. “I guess not.”

“So you couldn't have warned me.”

They both stayed silent a while, looking out towards the city. When Newt looked down, Hermann was drumming his fingers against his thigh. Newt slowly put his own hand above them.

Hermann looked down quickly, then up at Newt. He didn't move his hand, though.

“That was a me thing,” Newt said by way of explanation. He left his fingers there for a few more seconds before becoming self-conscious and pulling them back.

“Do you think Vanessa's right?” Hermann asked, seemingly out of the blue. But Newt knew what he was referring to.

Was it true that they needed each other? Was it true that after years of deliberately riling each other up they would now have to rely on one another to get better? Had that one moment of trust, that one moment of blind faith, those few seconds it had taken them to decide to drift together, had it really been enough to change their relationship like this?

“I... I think she has a point. It's what they tell Jaeger pilots, isn't it? That they have to trust each other. Rely on one another.”

“But our situation is... unusual.”

He could feel Hermann's voice resonating through his own throat. _Newton initiated a drift with a kaiju._

“Yeah. But since we can't really talk about our feelings with the giant monsters in the creepy other world...”

Couldn't they? Was it really impossible? The piece of kaiju brain in Hong Kong was damaged, already weak. But it was still alive, still connected to the Hivemind. Considering how hyperconnected the kaiju naturally were, Newt doubted that the drift had damaged it much.

“We only have each other, right?” he continued, not letting on what turn his thoughts had taken. He felt desperate for Hermann to agree with him, to keep him from straying towards forbidden thoughts.

“Maybe,” Hermann replied.

It wasn't quite enough, but it would do for now. It would have to do.

“So you'll be going back to academia?” Newt asked, voice still pitched low. The silent didn't feel the same with Hermann there. It was almost unnatural. It felt like a dangerous thing.

Hermann nodded. “It seems like the most logical solution. The PPDC will need time to get back on its feet again, and working for any government... is quite out of the question.”

“Same here. I don't think I can ever again trust the systems that allowed the construction of the Coastal Wall. Not that I was ever a big fan of governments but like... who is stupid enough to think that building a wall around an entire ocean is a good idea?”

Hermann winced slightly.

“Oh. Shit. No disrespect to your dad.”

Newt kept forgetting that Hermann's father had been one of the people advocating for the Wall of Life and the closing of the Jaeger Programm. Even though he had worked on developing it in the first place. Even though his son had worked on part of the first Jaeger's code. Even though all of humanity depended on the Jaeger Programm and Hermann had told him so.

“I'm sure your opinion of him is the least of his worries,” Hermann said with a bitter smile. “And I tend to agree with your sentiment in this case. I'm sure that right now my father is desperately trying to find a way to justify his behaviour during the war. The good news is that it should keep him out of my hair for quite a while.”

“It still kind of sucks, though.” Newt bumped his shoulder againt Hermann's in a poor attempt at comfort.

“I should probably go back to bed,” Hermann sighed. “You too. You need the rest.”

Despite these words, they both stayed in place. Newt lookd down at his hands. “Sometimes I feel like it would be easier to just keep going. Work until I colapse. Like... that would be better than to stare at the ceiling for hours.”

Hermann stayed silent for a moment. Newt was about to try and say something else when he finally spoke up. “I... I dream of Otachi, sometimes. I dream of being you, and of Otachi finding me in that bunker. And then I dream of being Otachi and of finding you. And when I wake up I am not sure who I'm supposed to be anymore.”

“I dream of flying.” Newt said. “And of falling, too.” _And of dying, again and again and again_.

Hermann shivered. Newt knew it wasn't really because of the cold, but he still offered half of the blanket to Hermann. He hadn't expected him to accept, but Hermann did and moved slightly closer so that it could cover both their laps and a bit of their torsos.

They stared at the window for a while longer, silently. Slowly, Newt started to drift off. He was surprised when Hermann started moving again.

“You should get some sleep.”

Newt finally lied down on his side as Hermann stood up. He stopped him as he was about to go and close the curtains.

“No, leave them open. I like to watch the lights.”

 

**HERMANN**

 

Hermann woke up slowly, eyes fluttering as they adapted to the light. He could not stop his wonder at mornings like this, the sense of peace that came with getting out of bed without the sound of an alarm. He heard Vanessa mumble next to him and slowly turned towards her.

Her skin looked soft, morning light from a slit between the curtains dancing on it. He wanted to touch it, but knew it would probably wake her up. So he looked instead, tracing every feature with his eyes. If he ever had to leave again, he wanted to remember this.

Vanessa started opening her eyes as well, turning towards him with a lazy smile. “Good morning,” she mumbled sleepily, words half-lost in a yawn. “Did you sleep well?”

Hermann nodded. He then frowned, realising that it was true. He had woken once during the night, but had been able to fall back asleep quickly, and the rest of his night had been surprisingly free of nightmares. “I did. You?”

“Uh-uh,” Vanessa hummed. “You should go check on Newton.” Her eyes were closing again. “I'll be up in a few.”

“Okay.” Hermann kissed her on the forehead, and warmth spread through his body at the smile she gave him. He wondered how such a thing was physically possible. The tenderness he felt only made the fact that he knew he was hurting her more difficult to bear.

He knew she was scared. Scared of what was happening to him, scared for him and scared _of_ him. He knew it, but there was nothing he could do, except try to get better. Hermann suspected that this was part of the reason why she had let Newton stay in the first place. It was a way to ensure that a third person was there if something suddenly went wrong with Hermann. A safety net of sorts. He wasn't sure it would work, not when Newt was so unstable himself. What if they just encouraged each other's destructive tendencies? But if it reassured Vanessa, Hermann couldn't see a good reason why he would refuse Newton's presence. After all, he was only staying for a few days while he got his bearings. Then it would be time for a new parting of ways.

Thinking about Newton made Hermann feel tired again. Their relationship was just too confused. Whenever he brought up the other man, Hermann had to sort through four different versions of him, never quite sure which one was real.

Was Newton the person Hermann had corresponded with twelve years ago, the passionate scientist who hadn't looked at Hermann's name or at his age but simply at his theories, calling them _awesome_ from the start?

Was he the man he had hated on sight, the man he couldn't help but argue with, the man who wouldn't let things go even when Hermann needed him to, the man he had worked with anyway?

Was he the one of after their Drift, vulnerable and open and hating every second of it, the one whom Hermann had left behind?

Or was Newton the person Hermann could find in memories not his, a nine year old boy crying for his mother, building a radio set from spare part just to throw it from a window, a kid genius at MIT, playing music and doing science beause there were so many things out there in the world and he wanted to understand them all?

Hermann didn't think there was an answer to this question. Or if there was, the answer was probably that Newton was _all_ of these people, and none of them all at once.

This was a thought too dangerous to contemplate first thing in the morning.

Instead he walked through the hall and into the living-room, where Newton was sitting on the couch, a book in hand. Hermann recognised the object as an old paperback of his, which had been lying in one of the boxes Karla had brought with her and that Hermann still hadn't taken the time to empty.

Newton turned to face him and smiled. “You own an awful lot of fantasy novels. Never would have thought.”

Hermann rolled his eyes. Newton's mockery was another thing he would prefer to put off until after a well-brewed cup of black tea, but alas he had become accustomed to it. It felt almost too comfortable. “And I, on the other hand, was not surprised at all to learn that half of your personality is based on mangas and american comic books.”

“I'm not even gonna try to deny that statement. What can I say? It's called having badass tastes.”

“Of course.” Hermann walked decidedly towards the kitchen and put some water to boil.

“Hey. Um...” Newton's voice was shy. Hermann turned around to see him standing right before the threshold of the kitchen, arms crossed over his torso. “Thanks again. For letting me stay. I'll try not stay in your feet too much, and I'll find a hotel and...”

“It's okay,” Hermann interrupted. _It's too early_ , he thought. His body felt rested, for once, and he was hellbent on enjoying this fact without forcing his mind to snap awake. “You don't have to worry about it.”

Newton frowned, but didn't say anything. He stayed where he was while Hermann busied himself with preparing his pot of tea as well as making coffee. As soon as the latter had brewed, he poured Newton a cup. He took it with a small smile and went to sit down at the table while Hermann set it for breakfast.

Vanessa finally emerged from the bedroom while Hermann was making toast, and he traded her a quick kiss for a cup of coffee with a cloud of milk.

“Good morning, Newt,” she then said around a yawn before sitting down.

“'Morning, 'Nessa.”

When Hermann brought the toats to the table, he felt like this moment was existing out of time. Like this moment didn't exist at all.

It all felt so _normal_.

 

The next few days went by slowly. One of the first things that Newt did was figure out a way to get his guitar, keyboard and amp shipped back from the lab in the Shatterdome, since he hadn't been able to take them with him on the plane. It felt silly for Newt to rent a storage space just for that, but Hermann couldn't offer to store them in the flat either with the mess of boxes they still had to unpack. With a sigh, he called his sister Karla, who promised she would be happy to lend her basement once more whenever the instruments arrived.

Once that was done, they mostly just kept to themselves. Hermann and Vanessa split their time between unpacking more of their things, and going to various medical appointments. Newton mostly stayed out of their way, sitting at the table or the couch with his computer.

He was much more silent than Hermann had expected him to be. Actually, in the two days following Newton's first night here, they had nearly not talked at all. Hermann wasn't sure how he felt about this, although he was certain Vanessa had her own opinions.

Finally, he decided to actually do something.

“What are you doing,” he asked. Newton was sitting at the kitchen table, laptop open in front of him. He hadn't been looking at the screen, though, but staring into space instead. He jumped when he heard Hermann's voice.

“What?”

“I asked what you were doing.” Hermann leaned against the back of the chair next to Newt's, unimpressed.

“Uh... not much?”

“I can see that.”

“Hey, no!” Newt protested. “Don't start being patronising. It's not fair. I was actually trying to do stuff. It's just... hard.”

Hermann sighed as he pulled out the chair and sat down, turning Newton's computer towards him. “E-mails?” he asked after quickly looking at the browser page opened on it.

Newton nodded. “Well... job offers.” He leaned back in his chair, tipping it slightly. “I figured that, before I start looking for a place to live, I should probably know what I actually want to do with my life. And... Well, academia is probably the best solution. I definitely don't want to ever have to work for the military again. Urgh.” He faked a shudder. “It's not as if the offers are lacking either. Everybody wants a piece of the genius, you know?”

“So much so that you don't know which offer to accept?”

Newton looked down, tilting his chair further back. “Or if I want to accept one at all.”

“I've been considering the Freie Universität Berlin, myself,” Hermann said. It was true, although he didn't really know what reaction he expected from Newton as he said it. Was he trying to get him to stay in Berlin? Did he _want_ him to stay in Berlin too?

“You have?” Newton replied, seeming surprised.

“Vanessa would like to stay here for a few years. At least until the baby has grown up a bit. And... the FUB's offer wasn't bad.”

“That's... good to know.”

Hermann stood up and started turning back towards his office, hoping to get some work done. He wasn't happy about it, but something in him felt frustrated that Newton was staying so idle after all the guilt he had made Hermann feel about leaving the Shatterdome sooner than him. Of course Newton needed more equipment to be able to do anything meaningful, but Hermann had half expected him to accept the first job offer that came his way just so he could get back to a lab of his own and to his kaiju samples. After all, Newton didn't have any family or such preventing him from acting in such an impulsive way. So why was he still here?

“Hermann?” Newton's voice stopped him, and he turned towards the other man again. Newton was looking up with a pained expression on his face. “How do you do it? How do you think about the future? How am I supposed to deal with the fact that... that I still have a whole life to live? And no idea what to do with it?”

Hermann took a moment to reply. He wanted to give Newton as truthful an answer as possible. And that meant he had to actually think about it himself. He thought about his Breach model, about how he had been stuck on the same calculations for days. He thought of the visible bulge of Vanessa's belly, which he still felt almost afraid to touch. He thought of how he wanted to ask her if she would like him to come to her medical appointments with her, but how he kept finding excuses not to do it. Was he really interested in signing a contract with the FUB, or was he just saying that because it was the most convenient option? Was he just letting his choices be made for him?

Hermann had to admit it. He wasn't really sure he had found a way to think about his future either. Not his own future, at least. It felt easier to think about Vanessa and Victoria, instead of trying to find where he fitted in the picture he wanted to paint for them.

“I think you just... do what you have to do. We can't make a model to predict the shape that our lives will take. The world isn't ending anymore. We don't have anyone telling us what to do. We're free, and...”

_And that is what's most terrifying._

They looked at each other. There was no need to say the words aloud, they could both see them reflected in the other's eyes.

“You just got it, didn't you?” Newton asked with a sad parody of a grin. “Oh, Hermann. How blind you can be, sometimes.”

Hermann didn't answer. He felt his hand start to shake. Newton had no right to mock him, not for this. Not when Hermann was doing his best to go back to normalcy. Not when he was doing his best not to think about those things, because thinking about them opened up thirty different mental avenues, and one of them always lead to the kaiju.

“You like to pretend you're so well-adjusted, with this perfect little family life you fall into so charmingly. But welcome back to reality. You're just as lost as I am.”

Hermann didn't think. He put one hand on the back of the chair next to Newt's and tipped it back, letting it crash onto the floor. The sound of it echoed through the room like a gunshot. Something deadly, something dangerous.

“Maybe I am,” Hermann said, almost sneered, almost spat out like acid. “Maybe I am, lost and confused. But at least I have the decency not to _relish_ in it. At least I have the decency not to wear it like a flag, like a symbol of identity. At least I am _trying_ to get better and to function. Because people _rely_ on me, _Newt_. People that I care about. Because at least I have the decency not to drive everyone away with my splendid personality, hero complex and impulsivity issues.” He took a breath, schooling his features into the cold mask that was like a second skin by now. “You currently live in my apartment. If you so despise my _perfect little life,_ I suggest you walk out of it right now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for that ending please don't kill me


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooooooooo
> 
> I guess I disappeared for like 50,000 years. Sorry about that. I got punched in the face by university work. But I'm done with it now and I'm gonna try to upload the rest of the fic as quickly as I can get it proofread! Which means you might actually get more than a chapter a week. Hopefully.
> 
> Sorry again, hope you enjoy this chapter!

**NEWT**

 

Newt stared at Hermann in silence, smile frozen on his lips.

_If you so despise my perfect little life, I suggest you walk out of it right now._

Newt had wanted to get a rise out of Hermann, to make him react. That was always what he was doing. Newt was aware of his own issues, to an extent, and so he knew of his self-destructive tendencies, and he knew that his favorite method of destruction had always been _Hermann_.

But this hadn't been what he _truly_ wanted, he realised now. Because Hermann had the upper hand, like always. He had a way to cut him out. Maybe Hermann was as lost as Newt, even if it hurt him to admit it. But at least he didn't _need_ him. There were other people that he could rely on.

Newt had dug this hole for himself, it was time to lie in it.

Instead of letting the fight escalate, he just stayed silent. Hermann stared him down for a few more seconds, then stormed out of the room.

Newt's muscles immediately relaxed, in an almost painful way. He could feel his whole body shake from the tension. Nervous laughter started bubbling inside his stomach. He wasn't exactly sure what – if anything – was funny, but he couldn't help himself. He muffled the giggles against one of his arms. The last thing he needed was for Hermann to come back inside and berate him for making light of the situation.

Maybe it was because of how ridiculous he and Hermann were acting. Maybe it was because of how ridiculous the whole human race seemed, scrabbling for meaning in a world that had tilted its axis. Maybe it was because of how ridiculous it felt to have his e-mail inbox filled with messages from various government agencies.

He hadn't really meant what he had said about Hermann's life. Actually, he thought bitterly, he was surprised it hadn't been obvious how jealous he felt of it. Hermann seemed able to fit into the patterns of his old existence with ease. Newt was just starting to realise how dangerous his tendency to burn every bridges he crossed could be.

He let his laughter turn into sobs, not caring as much anymore about whether the noises would get noticed or not. Let Hermann be disgusted with him. Let him blame it all on Newt's _splendid personality_ , as he called it. Newt knew how to push people away. That was at least one thing he was still good at, in this now kaiju-less world.

He wiped at his eyes and closed his computer. The sleeve of his white shirt was wet with tears and snot. He sighed. He was quickly running out of clothes, what with only bringing one suitcase with him. Maybe he really should start looking for somewhere else to stay. Somewhere where he wouldn't feel like he was intruding. Somewhere where he wouldn't have to face Hermann.

Newt knew that Hermann wasn't okay, despite his façade. And he knew that it was his own fault. Because Hermann had accepted to drift with him, without time to weigh the consequences, and his perfect brain had been ruined in the process. Because _Newt_ wasn't able to do things on his own like he was supposed to.

Newt stood up, put on a sweater and his jacket above his dirty shirt, and all but ran out of the apartment building.

 

Standing on the threshold, looking up at the home he had just left, Newt realised he hadn't been outside for three days. The air here tasted different than in Hong Kong. Colder. There were less people around, at least in this neighbourhood. Newt was quite happy about that, having made the realisation while on a bus to the airport that him and crowds didn't get along quite so well anymore. He had handled the incident like a champ, with only a minimal amount of screaming and just a tiny panic attack, but he wasn't eager to go for Round 2. He had had enough nightmares about Otachi already, he didn't need to seek them out in his waking life.

_God,_ if Otachi had forever ruined concerts for him, he was going to be _pissed_.

Standing in the cold, Newt also realised he didn't really know where he was. He had taken the bus on his way here, sure, but couldn't even remember which direction he had come from. He shoved his hands inside his pockets and started walking anyway.

He groaned when his left leg started hurting after only a few hundred meters. He walked faster. That would teach his body what pain was his and what wasn't. He found a bus stop at some point. He wasn't sure how long he had been walking for and if the stop was the same one he had first arrived at, but he waited there anyway. He climbed in the first bus that came by, bought his ticket and sat down. He watched the city pass by for a while, then got off and took another bus.

He finally ended up near the Spreeinsel in Mitte. There were a few tourists there. Europe was far away from the Pacific and some of the people here were still able to enjoy the luxury of going on holidays. Still, it was far calmer than it would have been before the Kaiju War. There were more people sitting on sidewalks too, homeless and refugees.

Newt was slowly starting to realise how paradoxical the situation in Shatterdomes had been. He had been one of the people closest to the front line, had seen kaiju remains up close and walked through the destruction the creatures had caused. But he had no idea what the longterm consequences of this conflict had been. He had no idea how fucked the economy was, what measures which countries were taking, which governments were trying to send back refugees where they came from now that the threat had collapsed back into its own universe. For more than ten years he had been living in a small bubble of metal and hierarchy, and now he was facing the fall back to reality.

Wasn't this the exact thing he had told Hermann?

Newt groaned. His feet were hurting. It wasn't some kind of phantom drift-pain anymore, but the real-life, physical pain of walking for too long after months without exercise. He found an empty bench and sat down, looking at the Spree river.

The current was slow. He would probably be able to swim against it if he tried.

He probably shouldn't try.

It had been a long time since he had last swum, though. He could remember holidays with his mother, on the rare occasions where she would take him with her. He remembered golden beaches and warm water, so clear he could see tiny fish go past him. He remembered watching the dead bodies of jellyfish and prodding them with a stick.

He remembered waves hitting his legs, rain in his eyes, foreign smells and foreign colors all around him. He remembered being a kaiju.

Newt was angry. At Hermann, at himself, at the PPDC, at the governments, at the world at large and even at another universe. He was angry and frustrated and for once, just for once, he didn't feel like caring at all. He watched the Spree go its merry course, and let himself be carried away by the memories.

His body became massive, powerful instead of weak, stable instead of insecure. Newt could remember what it was like to never be alone, to have dozens of voices in his head all at the same time, to have hundreds of thoughts always running through his head and never lose track of one of them. He felt at home, surrounded by that hurricane of sound. More at home than in the silence he'd been living in in the last month, one he remembered from too much medication and a house that was empty at night.

A couple walked in front of him, and Newt bared his teeth. He was ready to fight if he had to. Fight for his right to live, for his right to exist. Fight because it was the only thing he knew how to do. Fight and destroy because that was the meaning behind _being alive_.

 

Again, he did not know how long he stayed there, watching the water. He did not know how much longer he would have stayed either if his phone hadn't started to ring, breaking the illusion and bringing him back to his tiny body and the coolness of a German evening.

He fished his phone out of his pocket and brought it to his ear without checking the caller ID.

“Newt Geiszler?” he said, voice sluggish, as if the sounds were foreign to him.

“Newt? This is Vanessa.”

He froze. Why would she be calling him? Hermann had to have explained their arguments. Was she going to tell him that she had put his suitcase in the lobby, for him to pick up whenever he wanted? It wasn't Vanessa's style, not from what Newt knew of her. And she had been the one to offer he stay with them in the first place, so...

“Uh... Yes?” Eloquent. Nice.

“Listen. I know you two had a fight but... Hermann is acting... off.” She sounded genuinely worried, too much for Newt not to feel the same anxiety shoot up through him as well. “I can't get him to respond to me. At all. Could you... Could you come back? And see whether you can do something? I know it's a lot to ask. I'm sorry.”

“I'm on my way,” Newt replied, without having to think about it. He had been ready to leave since Vanessa had said something was wrong with Hermann. It was the way it was and the way it had always been. As much as he was angry with the man he knew he couldn't leave him on his own.

Even when Newt truly believed that he had come to hate Hermann Gottlieb, physics genius and writer of passionate e-mails, kindred spirit in a desert of intellectual desolation, absolute asshole with uptight manners and disdain written on his every feature, even when he truly believed he had come to hate Hermann, he had always been there to defend him and his theories. He had always been there to defend Hermann as a person too, to be honest. But that part he had tried to handle more discretely.

“Okay,” Vanessa said with a relieved sigh. “Okay.”

There was so much fear in her voice. Newt started running towards the closest bus stop. “He'll be fine, 'Nessa. We'll make sure he's fine. But you've got to hold on until I get there, okay? Stay with him. Keep talking to him.” Newt had no idea what he was doing. He had no idea what was going on and how he was going to help. But he couldn't do nothing, not like the past two days. If this was going to be another war, he wasn't scared to go on the front line anymore. Or, more accurately, he was terrified, but he would do it anyway.

He also knew that Vanessa needed to feel useful. She needed something to do, or she would lose it. Newt felt bad to instinctively use this knowledge and manipulate her, but he thought the situation justified the means. “I'm hanging up now. I'll be there as soon as I can.”

He was out of breath as he finally reached the bus stop. He quickly googled the quickest itinerary, keeping an eye out for a potential cab in the meantime. He ended up taking a bus, an S-Bahn, then a second bus, and arrived at the Gottliebs' apartment exhausted and nervous.

He rang the bell and waited, shifting from foot to foot and shivering. Vanessa buzzed him in without even checking who was there, and he climbed the stairs two by two, ignoring the elevator altogether. He was out of breath when he finally knocked on the Gottliebs' door, and truly wondered whether he should take up jogging. Except he knew he wouldn't, because the choice between sports and more time to do science was really not even worth talking about.

Vanessa opened the door and immediately gestured for him to go into the living-room. Hermann was sitting on the couch/bed and staring out the window. The only reason they knew he was alive was the way his chest moved with every of his breath. He was perfectly still otherwise. The fact that he was sitting in the exact same way he had been with Newt when they had talked together about their nightmares was all too obvious, and Newt bit his lip. So it was his fault again.

He crouched down in front of Hermann and looked into his eyes. At least he was blinking, but there was no life in his gaze. Newt waved a hand in front of Hermann's face, frowning when the eyes didn't even catch on the movement. He looked up to Vanessa, who shook her head.

“I don't know what to do. He's been like that since I came back and I can't get him to respond.”

Newt nodded. The only logical response to this situation was panic.

“Hermann?” He snapped his fingers in front of the other man's face. “Hey. You're freaking your wife out here, man. Actually, you're freaking me out too. Say something, come on!”

There was no response. Newt hadn't seriously expected one anyway.

 

**VANESSA**

 

Vanessa watched as Newt tried to get her husband to react, to no avail. Her arms were crossed around her chest, partly as a way to conceal her shaking hands.

Had she been wrong? Were Newt and Hermann really as unable to help each other as they seemed to think they were? Were they maybe even making each other worse? Had _she_ made things worse? Was she going to have to watch her husband wither away in front of her, unable to help?

She couldn't think like that. She had to keep trying, and give Hermann and Newt a chance to keep trying as well. She had to believe in the bright future she wished for, if only because it seemed so impossible to realise right now. So many things had been impossible before and happened anyway. She couldn't give up now.

“I... I'm gonna make myself something to drink,” she said, looking for something to do that would occupy her hands. “Do you want some coffee?”

Newt looked up from where he was crouching on the floor. He forced his expression not to express any panic, and Vanessa was grateful, even if she saw through the facade. “Uh... Yeah. That would be nice. Thanks.”

She nodded and went to the kitchen. In the relative privacy, she forced herself to take deep breaths and try to calm down. Hermann had been fine earlier. A bit distant, defensive, but Vanessa had immediately understood why once she noticed that Newt had been gone. He'd explained that they'd had a fight, that Newt had stormed off, but he was confident that he would be back.

Vanessa had kissed him softly and then gone to take a nap, and once she had woken up she had found him frozen in place, eyes fixed on the horizon.

She started making coffee, and considered making herself an infusion instead, but decided against it. Coffee was comforting to her, and she needed everything that could help right now.

When she came back to the living-room with the two mugs, Newt was seated on the floor, one of Hermann's hands in his. He was looking at the pale skin like it might hold the answer to all of life's mysteries. Vanessa knew the feeling.

She put Newt's mug on the coffee table, then sat down in an armchair, watching the two men.

Newt nodded his thanks for the drink, but kept his eyes trained on Hermann.

“What happened exactly?” she asked. Hermann had only given her one side of the story, and without many details. She needed more, if she wanted to actually understand.

Newt didn't turn to look at her, as if ashamed to do so.

“I'm not gonna judge you or be mad. Like I said, I already know that you two had a fight. I just want to know what happened so I can try to piece together what the _fuck_ is going on.” It wasn't a habit of hers to swear, but she would have to watch her language for years after Victoria's birth. So she was going to enjoy this way of voicing her frustration while she still had it.

“That's fair.” He stepped back from Hermann. There was only one armchair in the room, and the other option was to sit next to Hermann on the bed. So Newt just crossed his legs and faced Vanessa, still on the ground. “Totally justified. You're right.”

Vanessa frowned. Newt was nervous. Newt was _stalling_. She glared at him and raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, that? That is exactly the expression Hermann gets when he's unimpressed with me but there are too many people around for him to start shouting. You know, I didn't really believe people when they said that married couple start to look alike, but this is actually kind of freaky so... And yep. There is the gaze telling me to get back on topic or something bad will happen. Sorry.”

Vanessa was having a hard time keeping her expression demanding, despite the seriousness of the situation. Newt made her think of herself, and how she would start babbling in the same way whenever she got nervous.

“Okay. So we had a fight. Kind of a big fight? I insulted his life-choices and he told me that if I hated them so much I should probably just walk out of here. I cried a little, possibly? Then I left. I only came back after you called me. I didn't think... I didn't think anything would happen, I didn't mean to-”

“What started the fight?” Vanessa interrupted. She didn't think Newt was actually responsible for the situation, even if he seemed to blame himself. But she didn't have the time to comfort Newt either, not until they had figured things out.

“Uh... We were talking about the future. And about how I have absolutely no clue what I'm gonna do with the rest of my life. And how he pretends that he does, but he's actually scared too. I mean... I'm not making this up, right? You must have noticed this too?”

Vanessa hesitated, then nodded. She knew she could trust Hermann, and he kept telling her that he knew what he was doing, knew what he wanted. He kept telling her that he wanted to be here and that he was happy. But it wasn't impossible for him to be lying to himself.

“But, like... He was fine when I left. He was super pissed, but he was fine. He was in his office when I walked out...”

“I talked to him, before he... became like this. But then I took a nap, and when I woke he wasn't responding.”

Newt seemed slightly relieved that at least there was a chance this hadn't been caused by their fight directly. Vanessa took a sip of her coffee. They still were no closer to figuring what was going on or how to fix it.

“Has something like this ever happened before?” Newt asked. Vanessa was surprised, as she had been on the verge of asking the same question herself. She thought about it.

“I'm not sure. Never anything this bad but... I guess he gets lost in memories, sometimes. He starts staring into space. But he'll usually snap out of it if you call for him.”

Newt nodded. “Yeah, you mentioned that the other night. That I did it too. But what could be different about today that lead to him staying stuck?”

Vanessa was fairly confident Newt was only talking to himself and didn't expect a reply, but she felt obligated to give him one anyway. “Well. You're here.”

“What?”

“I don't want to... accuse you of anything. I don't think it's really your fault. But since you're here, and the two of you are connected, and you had your fight... maybe that made the... memory drift stronger. Or something.”

Newt's eyes widened. “Memory-drift! That's it! Vanessa, you're a genius!”

She frowned. She didn't see how her insight was actually of any help. “I'm flattered but... What am I a genius for, actually?”

“A memory-drift! That's what this is! A drift! A connection. A two-way link!” Newt seemed really excited, and got up from the floor. “I went to the Spreeinsel when I left. I stared at the water for a long time. A really long time. I wanted to... get lost in the memories. I did it intentionally. But Hermann? Well, I'm not sure if I'm right at all, but if we think about this like a drift... It's actually not just a one-way or even two way connection. It actually goes in three directions. Pilot/Pilot/Jaeger, or Me/Hermann/Kaiju. And maybe... maybe the connection is still there partly, and so it also works with Me/Memories/Hermann. Like a powerful ghost-drift. I think I've had it happen to me before, a bit, when...”

Newt trailed off, then raised his eyes towards Vanessa, an apology in them.

“When we were still in the Shatterdome. He missed you. He missed you a lot, and sometimes I would get waves of... of missing you too. Not really, because I don't actually know you, but I would get hit by all these memories he has of you, and I would just feel what he was feeling, you know? Well, no. You don't know. Obviously you don't.” He started playing with the cuff of his sweater. “And I thought it was just my mind fixating on these memories on its own. Because I missed... having someone to go home too. But maybe he did influence me in some way. Maybe I got lost in those specific memories so easily because he was thinking about them as well.”

He started drumming his fingers against one of his thighs. He thought in a visible way. You could read on his face how his brain was chasing after different theories, disecting them one after the other, selecting the best ones even as he talked. It was fascinating.

In that moment, Vanessa felt like she knew her husband better than ever before. She remembered seeing him smile at his computer screen, and feeling jealous for a while until her boyfriend beckoned her over so she could take a look. He had explained to her how Newt's theories were great, flawed but amazing, beautiful. How he went further in his research than anyone else, despite their lack of comparative samples. She had tried her best to understand, then, but she couldn't see the beauty in those things in the same way that Newt and Hermann did. That was one reason why she had never done anything with her engineering degree. She couldn't believe in it like Hermann believed in numbers.

But she could see the beauty in the way Newt was thinking now, entire body focused on the task.

“If he really was influencing me before through a ghost-drift... Maybe this time I was the one influencing him.”

“What memories were you looking for, then? When you left?”

Newt froze, then looked down at his lap. Vanessa feared she already knew the answer.

“I...” Newt seemed to realize there was no point in lying, not when they were on the same team. “The kaiju. I was going through some of the kaiju's memories.”

Vanessa couldn't help but wince, even if she had expected it. She remembered how Hermann had described it, being this kind of beast, losing his humanity until all he wanted was to _destroy_. “Why would you do that?”

Newt still didn't look at her. “ I was angry. I was angry and scared. They... It's just so easy to lose yourself when you think about the kaiju. Not just because they're... interesting. They're connected. They have this sort of hive mentality, a shared mind. Hermann and I tapped into that when we drifted. We could access everything every kaiju has ever thought. Because all their memories are shared. That kind of knowledge, that kind of power, it's... thrilling. You know how, in a concert, you can be overwhelmed just by the atmosphere, the connectedness you feel? Everyone around you is dancing to the same music and thinking the same things, and it's so much and so beautiful that it makes you want to cry. That's what drifting with a kaiju is like. Except for the part where it's terrifying.”

Vanessa stared, and didn't say anything. How could she? To her, kaiju were danger. Kaiju were war and destruction, kaiju were consequences impossible to deal with, millions of lives lost. They were the monsters that had taken her life away from her. She would never be able to see the beauty in them.

She looked down at Newt's arms, covered by his shirt and sweater, where she knew tattoos were hiding. How foolish and how brave to wear death on one's skin. Like carving on epitaph on your bedroom door. Hermann had thought the same, before. But if she asked him today, what would his answer be?

“Vanessa...”

“How do we get him out? How do we get him to snap out of the memories, the ghost-drift?”

Newt froze, than shook his head in apology. Vanessa felt herself moving closer and closer to her snapping point. She wanted to hit him. She wanted to scream at him and punch him, maybe break his stupid glasses, because she had brought him into her home, a perfect stranger, she had brought him into her family, she had made his bed and taught him how to use the stove and still he was _useless_ when she needed him the most. In that moment, she thought she knew what he and her husband felt when they chased their memories' power.

“I... I don't know. I'm not sure? If this was an actual drift we could program the machine to pull him out. We can't do that here. And I never had any problem to snap out of it, so... I don't know why he's stuck.” He looked down at his hands. “Sorry. I'm gonna try. I promise I'm gonna try.”

They finished their coffee and tried to talk to Hermann some more. He still looked as much like a statue as he had before. The tried to shake him, to no avail, and after a while Vanessa just couldn't stand it anymore. She had already tried all of that.

She excused herself and went to the bathroom, splashing water on her face and staring at her reflection in the mirror. She looked tired and frustrated, her eyes puffy and red. Her hair was also starting to get too long, she would need to get a haircut. But that was fine. That was okay. That was something she could fix, and she would fix it. She breathed, in and out, then jumped and banged her toe against a cupboard when she heard a commotion coming from the living-room.

She swore at her clumsiness, but went to the living-room as fast as she could despite the pain. The first thing she noticed was that Hermann wasn't sitting on the couch anymore. Then she realised that the noise she had heard had been caused by Newton falling to the ground and hitting the coffee table. Luckily, it was wooden, not made of glass.

Above Newton, one hand to the ground and one gripping Newt's arm, was Hermann. He was breathing heavily and, although his posture was definitely agressive, the only thing Vanessa could see in his eyes was confusion.

“Hermann!” she shouted.

He let go of Newt's arm and turned towards her, eyes blinking in confusion. He then tried to stand up, but wobbled and nearly fell back down. Newt sat up quickly to support him, but whined as he did so. From what Vanesse could guess, he had probably hurt his head when falling, and the speed of his movement had made him dizzy.

“Dude. Just sit down,” Newt said. “It will help both of us. I think I need to sit down too.”

Hermann did as he was told, and Newt flopped down next to him with a groan, rubbing at his head.

Vanessa was left standing awkwardly in one corner of the room. “So. What happened, exactly?”

 

**HERMANN**

 

Hermann's head felt like a tiny room in which a dozen of drums were beating out of time. His vision was shaky, like some colors were missing from it, and he felt like he was floating just outside of his body.

“What happened?”

That was the question. He had a vague memory of being unable to work after the argument he'd had with Newton and coming back to the kitchen to find him gone. Then Vanessa came back, they talked a little, but she was tired and went into the bedroom to rest. Then... Hermann had wanted to sit down a while and collect his thoughts, and suddenly he had found himself with Newton pinned under him, one hand gripping his arms and teeth bared at the other's throat.

His head was killing him. His shoulder too.

Hermann raised a hand to it, and was surprised at the sharp pain that echoed through him as soon as his fingers touched it.

“Yeah, I wouldn't do that if I were you,” Newton said guiltily. Hermann glared at him. “Like... don't put any pressure on there. I kind of... had to punch you.”

“You what?” Vanessa exclaimed.

Newton winced. “I punched him, okay? There was a reason for it! I didn't do it just for the hell of it, you know!” He had turned towards Vanessa with his hands raised in the air, as if placating a wild animal. Seeing the fury painted on his wife's face, Hermann could understand why. He felt something twist inside of him at the sight, because he knew this was his fault, that Vanessa was angry because she'd been worried about _him_. Again.

“He was chasing kaiju memories. I thought that physical harm might force him to react on instinct and snap out of it. It worked! I mean, he did attack me and nearly took a bite of me, but he ended up snapping out of it! So it worked!”

Hermann felt distant, like the conversation was happening in another room. The fact that Newton and Vanessa were talking about him like he wasn't even there didn't help the matters.

“Oh my god. You punched him. You just punched him and that was enough? Why didn't I think of that sooner?”

“Uh... To be fair, I think it's quite a good thing that your first instinct wasn't to punch your husband as hard as you could? I think I would have been a little worried if it had been.”

Vanessa took five long steps to the couch and started hugging Newt, to the latter's aparent confusion. To Hermann's too, if he was honest.

“Thank you. Thank you so much. I seriously had no clue of what to do, and we would still be stuck if you hadn't been there.”

Newt hugged her back quickly before taking his distance and mumbling: “You're... welcome, I guess.”

Hermann cleared his throat. “I'm sorry but... can someone explain to _me_ what's going on?”

And then Vanessa was hugging him too. He slowly put his arms around her, careful not to make any sudden movement. She smiled at him, tenderly, and Hermann saw tears well up in her eyes, barely a second before she wiped them away with a hand.

“You were gone,” Newt explained. “I mean, not _gone_ -gone, because obviously you're still here. But you were chasing memories. Of the kaiju, I think, which is probably while you fucking jumped at me when you woke up. You weren't responding at all, by the way. Which is why I punched you.”

Now that Newt mentioned it, Hermann thought he could remember blue shapes across the horizon, the smell of the ocean and the sensation of his body speeding through waters.

“How did it happen? I can't... I can't remember anything precisely, it's all...” He winced, his headache flaring up again.

Newton reached out and, after a second of hesitation, put a hand on Hermann's knee. Hermann looked down at it and forced himself not to stare. “I think it was my fault. I'm sorry. You know how... how the hivemind worked? How the kaiju were able to share their thoughts instantly, without conscious effort?” Hermann nodded, unsure of where exactly his colleague was going with this explanation. “Well, I think something similar is happening. Obviously not as strongly, I think we would have noticed if we were able to actually communicate by telepathy, but something similar. I think we can still influence each other somehow, through a kind of ghost-drift. Like, we can't really communicate but we can... share memories. Or something.”

“A ghost-drift?” Hermann asked with one eyebrow raised. It was a phenomenon known to happen with Jaeger pilots. After a strong drift, a lot of pairs would feel like they could still communicate with each other, even without PONs. They thought they could read each other's thoughts or even have silent conversations. Nobody had ever been able to prove that this phenomenon was real, tough, and it might just have been that two people who knew each other very well and had just been in each other's heads had a way of reading each other's body language unconsciously.

“I guess. Kind of. I mean, you know my feelings on ghost-drifting in general. The PONs already require a very high compatibility threshold, and the Jaegers kind of act as a buffer in normal cases, so in a controlled drift it seems very unlikely that the kind of physical alterations that could enable a real ghost-drift would occur. Even with a really powerful neural handshake.”

“But yours wasn't a controlled drift, was it?” Vanessa asked.

Newton squirmed under her gaze. “Um. Yeah. I kinda... messed with the PONs a bit when I built my custom set-up. I had to lower the compatibility threshold. A lot. Because like... I don't think I'm actually Drift Compatible with a piece of kaiju brain, you know? But I was careful! I also lowered the depth of the connection. Obviously that became kind of useless because of the whole Hivemind thing, but it's not as if I could actually have predicted that. And I also set a timer, so I knew I would be pulled away.”

Hermann raised an eyebrow. _Careful_ was not the adjective that came into his mind when he thought of Newton and of his first drift. He also very clearly remembered having to pull Newton from his own set-up himself after he had nearly _died_.

“Don't give me that look! It didn't work the first time because I passed out and started seizing! But that was because of the Hivemind! In normal conditions it would have worked just fine!”

“You were attempting to drift with a piece of kaiju brain, Newton, were you seriously expecting anything that could be called _normal conditions_?”

Newton looked like he wante to argue but, exhibiting an impressive bout of self-restraint, he just pouted instead. “Anyway! The system wasn't actually planned for a threeway drift, and with the lowered compatibility threshold and the kaiju's connection... maybe something did happen. To our brains, I mean. Maybe we did get affected by it, except it would be really hard to notice, because it's super difficult to get a clear reading on neural activity, you know? But it could be that we... that we can actually ghost drift.”

“So that means... you were thinking of the kaiju?”

Vanessa looked between the two of them. “Hermann...”

He thought she was scared they would have another fight, but that wasn't what Hermann was looking for. He just wanted to understand.

“It's alright, Vanessa,” Newton said, shaking his head. “It's fine.” He turned towards Hermann again. “I was. I was angry. I was angry at you and at myself and at everything. And when I'm angry I do destructive shit. _Stare into the void, and it will stare back_ , they say. So I stared.”

Hermann could remember. He could remember picking fights with people older, bigger, _stronger_ than him. He could remember drinking unhealthy amounts, just because he could. He could remember breaking things.

It made an awful kind of sense, that the memories of the kaiju would just become one more unhealthy coping mechanism.

“But you came back,” Hermann pointed out. He wasn't sure whether he was talking about the memories, or about Newt physically being here again. Maybe both.

At least he could remember the fight clearly, although he might have prefered it if he didn't. It hadn't been their usual kind of banter, the back and forth that stung but ultimately led them to being more productive. This fight had meant to hurt, to strike where they were both most vulnerable. They had been trying to destroy each other, and Hermann remembered the emptiness that had washed over him when he had thought that he might have succeeded.

“I came back,” Newton agreed. “Vanessa called for me. I never intended to actually _leave_ , I mean... I just needed some time. I would have come back for my suitcases anyway and... I mean, I should probably go and stay at a hotel or something, it might be best for everyone, but it doesn't mean...”

He was struggling to find his words, which should mean something. But Hermann was having hard enough a time keeping his own thoughts straight through the pounding pain, he didn't feel able to interpret Newt's expression.

“I mean... We fight a lot. Right? And this fight was bad. I was out of line and you...”

“I was out of line too.”

Newton nodded in acknowledgment. Vanessa was watching them intently, probably trying to parse together what was left unsaid, and watching over them in case things got violent once more.

“But I think actually... I think this fight might have been necessary, in a way? We tried to handle things on our own, when you left. And it didn't work out great, did it? And now... If we really _are_ connected, there's no point in trying to keep our lives separate. I think maybe Vanessa was right. I think maybe we need each other. So like... if you'll still have me...”

Hermann sighed. This was too much. The idea of having Newton's memories had already felt overwhelming, but now there was a chance that their brainwaves were forever connected to each other, and that just felt worse. Hermann not only knew the Newton of a month and a half ago more intimately than he had ever hoped, there was also part of the present-Newton forever within him.

Still. He had pulled him out. Even if it was technically Newton's fault if Hermann had lost himself in the memories in the first place, he had pulled him out. Hermann didn't know what would have happened if he hadn't. Would Hermann have been able to stop it by himself?

“You can stay,” he said. He wasn't certain he didn't mean it as a request. _Will you stay? Will you do this for... Will you do this with me?_ “Until we figure things out. Until we get better. You can stay here, if you want.” Here, meaning in this flat. Here, meaning in Berlin. Here, meaning in Hermann's life.

Hermann turned towards Vanessa, waiting to see if she would say something. This had been her idea in the first place, but she had the right to change her mind. Especially after what had happened today. Hermann couldn't blame Newton, because he knew that wasn't how it worked. But if Vanessa saw Newton as a danger, he would respect it. He needed her to feel safe too. He didn't think he would ever be able to feel at home in a place where Vanessa wasn't safe.

But she nodded.

“Thank you,” Newton said, sounding overwhelmed. “Thank you guys so much, seriously. I don't know if I can... how I can ever repay you but... I appreciate it. I really do. More than I can say.”

Newton was sincere. Earnest, even. And Hermann was glad that Vanessa could feel it to, that she trusted him, somehow, despite everything that had happened. There was a time when he had hated Newton with all of his being. Now he didn't want to imagine his wife asking him to leave. How had his life come to this?

“I'm glad you're okay,” Vanessa said softly, coming closer and sliding her fingers in one of Hermann's hands. “I was really scared.”

Hermann wanted to apologize, but he didn't know for what, so he leaned into his wife's touch instead. His whole body felt tired, he guessed that he had been tensing his muscles the whole time he had been... lost? Unconscious? Unsconscious felt like the most accurate word.

“Okay, well, I'm gonna...” Newt started. “I think I'm gonna take a shower? I was outside a lot, and it was kind of really cold so... yeah. I'll be in the bathroom.”

He stood up and nearly ran out of the room. Hermann guessed that it was his very undiscreet way of giving him and Vanessa space, and he was thankful for it.

Vanessa immediately pressed her shoulder against his uninjured side, settling in more comfortably now that they had more space on the couch.

They kept silent for a moment, soaking in each other's warmth. Hermann didn't know what to say. He was still confused about everything that had happened.

“I don't want to lose you again,” Vanessa whispered.


	7. Chapter 7

**VANESSA**

 

For half her life, every single morning, Vanessa had spent around fifteen minutes applying make-up. With the War, her pregnancy and the fact that she barely had any work anymore, this routine felt even more important now. It gave her something to do, and the feeling of the different brushes against her skin reminded her of photoshoots, lights, of mattering, somehow. She knew some people would call her vain for holding onto this. But Hermann never had. Despite the fact that the most he did for his appearance was get a haircut semi-regularly and _try_ to makes his clothes match, he had never judged Vanessa for her own time-consuming beauty routines.

She was doing her nails one day, a few bottles of her polish laid out on the coffee table because she hadn't been sure what color she wanted to wear, when Newt started hovering. She turned towards him, and saw he was looking at the collection of polish bottles.

“Pick one if you want. I probably won't be able to ever use them all.”

Newt didn't need the offer to be repeated and sat down on the couch with a grin. He selected a dark purple and immeditely started painting his own nails. The ease with which he did so testified that this was far from his first time. His strokes were quick and precise. Actually, Vanessa felt kind of jealous. She guessed that fine motor skills were required when your job involved cutting open highly toxic organisms.

She liked Newt's company, most of the time. He was Hermann's opposite in a lot of ways, but alike to him in others. Despite what his manners might suggest to the untrained eye, Newt wasn't demanding. He had a strong personality, yes, but he never actually tried to force himself onto others.

Sometimes though... Sometimes he confused her. There were moments when she felt like Newt knew too much, like being with him was _too_ comfortable. She felt unbalanced, like she was mostly letting herself be carried by the flow, while Newt _knew_. She felt like he could guess nearly all of reactions, while always staying out of her reach.

Vanessa waited for Newt to finish painting the first layer on his nails before asking: “How come I feel like you already know me so well?”

Newt froze, hands in an awkward position as he waited for the polish to dry. “What do you mean?”

“Well, before you came here, we had only met... once? At a PPDC charity dinner during the early days of the War, right? But even then we hadn't talked that much. And still, when we talk... It feels comfortable. Like you've known me for years.”

Newt wouldn't meet her eyes, which wasn't a reaction that Vanessa had expected. He was hiding something, and Vanessa thought she had a pretty good idea of what it was. Maybe she hadn't been in the middle of the disaster that had been the War, and maybe she was no scientist, not anymore. Maybe she didn't have a clue how drifting worked, beyond the most superficial level. But she wasn't stupid either.

Newt looked ashamed. “Okay, so, before I start explaining, you have to understand that this is definitely not a conscious thing, definitely not a choice on my part, and that I would never intrude on your privacy out of my own free will.”

Vanessa nodded. This was only confirming her suspicions.

“I have Hermann's memories. From the Drift. You know that.”

She nodded again.

“Turns out that a big part of them are about you. Moments he's spent with you. Thoughts he's had about you. All kinds of... things.”

Newt was blushing. A genuine real-life blush, high on his cheeks. Vanessa couldn't help herself, she had to laugh.

“It's not funny!” Newt protested. “It's a gross invasion of your privacy! You shouldn't be laughing about these kinds of things!”

“Oh my god. Oh my god! You saw us having sex, right? That's why you're so embarrassed?”

It was such a silly thing to be ashamed of, in the grand scheme of things. Sure, Vanessa didn't exactly feel enthusiastic about someone being privy to all of her most intimate moments with Hermann, but compared to everything _else_ that had happened... Well. It didn't seem to matter as much.

“Am I hot when I'm naked?” She asked with a mischievous grin.

Newt blushed even deeper. It was pretty adorable.

“I'm not gonna answer that,” he mumbled. “Although Hermann sure thinks you are.”

It was Vanessa's turn to blush slightly, a cozy sort of warmth settling over her. She was glad Newt was still too busy looking at his freshly-painted nails to notice.

She put a hand on his shoulder, still smiling. “It's okay. I know you didn't mean to end up with those memories on purpose. I...” She paused. “Okay, thinking about it, there are conversations that were always meant to be private and it's a bit unsettling to know that someone has access to all of them. But I think I trust you. You don't seem like the type of person who would use those things against me. Or Hermann.”

Newt nodded quickly. “I won't. I promise. And... I mean, if it can reassure you, it's not as if I know like... _everything_ about you. Memory is still memory. Most details are hidden under the surface. A few things come back from time to time, depending on the situation. And on what Hermann is doing-slash-thinking about, I guess, if my theory is right. But a lot of things stay unconscious. The drift is... It's not like reading a book, flipping one page after another. It's more like an immediate feeling of _being_ another person, _being one_ , in the present and the past. A complete immersion in another reality. So a lot of things you don't actually _remember-_ remember, you know? They just get stored somewhere in your head.”

A feeling of being one with the other person... Vanessa was surprised by her own jealousy at hearing Newt describe the Drift like that. It wasn't for nothing that most Jaeger pilots were either family or lovers. That kind of intimacy was hard for the pilots themselves, but it also took its toll on everyone around them. She was now aware that someone in the world would always know Hermann better than she did.

Still, she was glad that Hermann's drift-partner had been Newt. The two men's personalities clashed so much that she knew they would never have the same kind of relationship that Hermann and Vanessa already shared.

Vanessa wondered what could have been between the two ex-colleagues. If they hadn't fought the first time they had met face to face, would they have become close friends?

Were they not _now_? Despite everything they said, they had accepted to drift together on a whim, using unsafe equipment and being connected to a kaiju. This had to mean something about them, even if they didn't admit it.

Vanessa hummed to herself. There was no point in wondering what-ifs. It was much more interesting to think of the future, now that they had one. Hermann and Newt's relationship still had years to evolve.

 _Years_. Wasn't that a magnificent thought to have? It felt so surreal. Like a dream that has been at the back of your head for so long that when it is finally reachable you're almost afraid to touch it.

“Vanessa?”

She realised she has been silent for a long moment, lost in thoughts. “Sorry. I was... spacing out, I guess.”

Newt looked at her closely.

“I'm glad you told me,” she said reassuringly.

“You had the right to know. I'm sorry I didn't say anything sooner. It's... I guess it just felt weird. But I really am sorry. That you're... stuck with us. With us being... fucked up like this. I don't know how I would feel if I was in your place.”

But what was there to feel, really? How else could she react than by taking things as they came, day after day? She felt lost, maybe as lost as them. In a way, she was waiting for her life to start again. She had waited during the War, and now she was waiting for her baby, and all the while she was pacing like a lion in a cage and trying not to go insane.

“It's not as if... It's not as if I'm taking the situation lightly. It's not as if I'm pretending that everything is fine with you both, or even claiming that everything's fine with me. It's hard. It's hard to talk about all of this with Hermann,” she tried to explain. “I think he doesn't like to talk about it because he's afraid he's going to scare me, even though that scares me even more.”

Newt nodded. “I think we're all terrified. It's just easier to pretend otherwise.”

Of course Newt would understand. She had seen him pull his sleeves down in a hurry more than once, so she knew he had fears of his own.

“I...” Newt continued. “I can try to be here, if you need me. To talk. Not about everything, probably, because...” He trailed off, probably contemplating whatever it was he didn't feel comfortable talking about with her. “Just... Some things I prefer not to dwell on. But I do feel like I owe you- wait. No. I'm not offering just to pay off a debt. I want to help you. I want to help you if I can. I just want all of us to be okay.”

“Thank you.”

It was all Vanessa could say, and it was far from enough. It didn't encompass how much Newt's kindness actually meant to her. It didn't encompass the fact that, in that moment, she felt understood, because Newt's wishes echoed her own precisely. Thank you didn't express a fraction of what she meant to say, but Newt didn't seem to mind and smiled anyway. He was smart. He could fill in the gaps.

They both went back to their nails, adding a second layer to the polish.

They were starting to find some kind of stability, all of them. It wasn't perfect, it wasn't even what she would have called _good_ , but it was _okay_ and that was enough for a first step. She knew it was unlikely that any of them would be able to go back to the kind of normalcy they'd had before the War, but things still worried her. Especially in Hermann, who seemed even more quiet and reserved than he used to be. He would lock himself in his office during the day, which was not unusual, but even when they were alone in the evening, he would only talk very little. He also seemed to seek more physical contact that before, which didn't resemble him. It wasn't a problem _per se_ , though. Except he never seemed to touch Vanessa like she was really there. She always felt like there was some kind of distance between the physical contact and the intent behind it.

It was hard to know exactly what the cause of such a behaviour would be. Vanessa's most educated guess was that it was some kind of hypercorrection on Hermann's part. He had mentioned the fact that he felt like his mind was filled with two many voices at once. Maybe talking as little as possible was a way for him to try and single out his own thoughts. And the need for touch might have been an attempt at communicating without words, although it wasn't always successful.

Next to her, Newt picked up his tablet, on which he had downloaded the last numbers of several scientific journals, trying to keep up with research while he was away from the lab himself. Vanessa debated opening the book she had been reading, but observed the scientist instead.

“Do you find me attractive?” She found herself asking.

Newt jumped and almost dropped his tablet before fumbling over his words. “What?! I mean... _sure_ , but...”

“It's just... You said the drift was like _being_ another person, right? So you... you felt Hermann's feelings too, right? I was wondering if that... if that affected _your_ feelings, somehow.”

Newt carefully put his tablet back on the coffee table, ensuring that it wouldn't be endangered. He also took a second before replying. “I don't think so? I mean, it's really weird, because sometimes I'll start feeling this kind of warmth, this aching desire to make you happy but... I can always identify is as something foreign, I think. As something coming from Hermann.” He looked down and started blushing again. “And, um... It has... happened? That my body kind of... reacted? But it was basically just a _you're hot, and Hermann's hot, and sometimes I have memories of the both of you doing hot things floating around in my head_ kind of thing. Not a... whatever other kind of thing this could have been. And I'm gonna shut up now. And maybe curl up into a hole and die.”

Vanessa laughed again. “I don't think dying is quite necessary. Thank you for being honest. I was just curious.” Newt tried to smile at her, a little bit self-consciously. “You know that... you can also talk to me, right? If you need to.”

Newt nodded. “Badass communication to avoid post-drift weirdness. That would be cool. I'm down with that.”

“Cool.”

“Cool.”

 

**NEWT**

 

Newt was starting to get restless. Hermann had put him in touch with the Freie Universität Berlin after Newt had mentioned he wouldn't mind staying in Germany for a while too, and now they were negotiating terms. To be honest, Newt was pretty certain that in the end they would agree with all of his demands. After all, he had a few good years of teaching experience boosting his life-savior resume. Still, it was university, and university meant paperwork, as well as decisions that had to go through a billion different people before they could get officially approved, and in the meantime Newt had nothing to do.

Honestly, he was starting to consider reading the book on French existentialist philosophy Hermann had dropped in his lap after Newt had walked into his office without reason one too many times. He was pretty sure the book belonged to Vanessa. And that Hermann wouldn't be caught dead reading it. At least the thing would give him something to occupy his hands. And his mind.

Newt vaguely considered adding a new tattoo to his collection. Maybe a piece on his back, now that he had arms and legs covered. It certainly would help with his agitation but...

But he didn't think he was ready to see anything resembling Otachi just yet, even as a tattoo design. He wanted to be ready. He wanted to be proud of his skin once more, to see all that was marked on it as a symbol of his own resilience and survival. He wanted to take back control of his body, like he had had to so many times before, in so many healthy or unhealthy ways.

But he wasn't just fighthing against himself, this time. He wasn't just fighting the betrayal of his own brain. He was fighting against dozens of consciousnesses trying to worm their way into his own, possibly still literally. He would really have to talk to Hermann about the possibility of kaiju influence through the rift between universes. Devise some tests they could try once they had equipment.

In the meantime, if getting a tattoo was out of the question, he would have to find other ways to busy himself. He started tempering with various objects in the apartment, but when the toaster he had been trying to “fix” started producing smoke after a loud bang and suddenly turned off all the lights in the apartment, Hermann announced that he couldn't take it anymore.

“Go pick up your guitar from Karla's basement! Or find yourself a new hobby. Write a book! Knit a scarf! I don't care, but do something with yourself before you turn us all crazy.”

Vanessa turned towards him with a light in her eyes that Newt didn't know how to interpret.

He had actually thought before that he would like to write a book one day. After all, it matched his status as an internationally-renown scientist rockstar. But he had no idea where to start, and thought he might as well wait until he had university-funding backing him up before getting started. After all, he had always worked better under a deadline. That's why he didn't complain when Vanessa dragged him out of the apartment while Hermann was working and took him to a store full of knitting supplies.

“Is this for real?” Newt wondered aloud, staring at rows upon rows of colored wool. There were so many of them. And they all had names. And different textures and... It felt overwhelming, but also kind of like heaven in a strange way.

“Yup,” Vanessa said, clapping him on the shoulder excitedly. “I've been going out of my mind too since I stopped working. Besides, isn't knitting the most typical hobby to pick up while you're pregnant?”

“I'm not pregnant, though,” Newt pointed out, earning himself a chuckle from Vanessa. “Do you even have any idea what you're supposed to buy?”

Vanessa shrugged. “I checked some tutorials online. We should probably start with two colors each to make some scarves. We also have to buy some special wool to make baby blankets.”

“I seriously cannot believe I am doing this. You are a terrible influence, 'Nessa.”

She winked at him and disappeared behind a shelf, looking for the knitting needles.

In the end, they came out of the shop with two pairs of knitting needles and six different colors of wool. Vanessa had picked a light grey and blue to make a scarf for Hermann, while Newt had chosen black and green for himself. They had also purchased a mint green and some light blue for baby blankets. Vanessa said she wanted Hermann's scarf to be a surprise, so they hid the supplies in an empty box leftover from when the move, and pushed it to the back of what had become Vanessa's closet.

Newt found it hilarious to see this side of Vanessa. He had never thought that the one thing he would be hiding from Hermann was that he was _knitting with his wife_. Still, they started woking on their respective scarves, keeping watch for each other in case Hermann tried to glimpse at their secret project.

What had, at first, only been a desperate attempt at distraction and a way to humor Vanessa quickly turned into an actual source of pleasure. Newt realised that the repetitive motions of knitting calmed his nerves. He downloaded an app that turned text into voice recordings, and was thus able to read science papers even while he worked on his scarf. He quickly found out that he could spend hours like this, listening and knitting, without realising that any time had passed at all. He had almost finished his scarf after a week.

Vanessa was slower than him, mostly because she often couldn't find the focus to knit for long periods of time with no break. When she saw that Newt only had a few rows left to make before finishing his scarf, however, she immediately insisted they go back to the shop.

Newt let himself be dragged along without protest.

Vanessa had proclaimed that Newt should make something for himself, but he kept insisting that he didn't need anything and showed her a pattern of baby blankets he would like to try. The fact that he had signed up for a Pinterest account was something Newt had very mitigated feelings about, but it _was_ a really good resource to find easy tutorials. She at least forced him to pick the colors, which Newt knew Hermann would regret when he settled on green and red. But well, little Victoria wouldn't be running out of blankets any time soon at the rate things were going.

At the register, the cashier took one look at the wool, a second one at Vanessa and congratulated them both.

Newt was utterly confused for a total of two seconds, before he turned towards Vanessa and saw her grinning brightly.

“Oh. Oh! No, no, I... I'm not the father!” Newt quickly explained, gesturing with his hands at the same time.

The cashier frowned, gaze turning slightly judgmental, which was probably worse than him just assuming Newt and Vanessa were together.

“I'm a friend,” Newt explained. “I'm a friend knitting a blanket for his friend's unborn baby. Just a friend doing friendly stuff.”

Vanessa laughed while handing cash to the cashier. “My husband doesn't really care for crafty things.”

The cashier nodded, although his expression was still judgmental.

Newt grabbed Vanessa's forearm as soon as the were out of the shop. “What was _that_ , though?” It wasn't exactly surprising that someone had mistaken him and Vanessa for a couple considering how she was pregnant and they were doing errands together, but the look the cashier had given them had felt like a cold shower to him. “Are people still so hung up on that whole traditional hetero family thing that they want to burn you with their eyes for hanging out with someone who's not your child's biological father? Like, _wow._ What if your child's father was an asshole? What if you didn't know who he was? What if he was _dead_ for fuck's sake?”

“Hey,” Vanessa said in a reassuring tone. “It's okay. It was a misunderstanding. I wasn't actually hurt by it.”

“Maybe you should have been!” Newt exclaimed. “Who cares if it's a misunderstanding? Random strangers shouldn't get to judge your life-choices anyway!”

Having lived in Shatterdomes across the world for the last decade, Newt wasn't used to this kind of prejudice anymore. For a while, he had actually thought that things had changed. But no, apparently, without the threat of a military authority getting you discharged for discriminatory behaviour, people were still assholes at heart. How fucking reassuring.

“Hey. Newt. _Newt,_ ” Vanessa squeezed one of his hands, forcing him to pay a little more attention to reality. “I'm okay. It's okay. I... I'm not exactly sure what this is about? But that guy? We don't have to hear from him ever again. We can go to a different store next time if you want. It's fine. People are annoying sometimes. We don't have to indulge them. Okay?”

Newt nodded slowly. He had a better idea what this was about, because it had been on his mind for much longer. It was just so... silly and stupid and hurtful, that people always had to assume.

“Thank you. I just... It's just...”

Newt had put words over a lot of facets of his personality, but that didn't mean he actually _shared_ those words most of the time. He didn't feel like he was cisgender OR heterosexual, identified as demi-male and probably... pan? Bi? Something? But... so what? Big deal. He had BPD, he was dealing with it, somewhat, approximately, great. Awesome. Why would he need to say something about it?

He was still white, masculine, educated, upper middle-class and he could even pass as neurotypical to people who didn't look too closely. Why should he actually care about what people assumed?

Except he did care. He cared and he had always cared, had spent the few moments at university when he hadn't been studying joining protests and online movements, because it didn't make sense for people to hate each other, not when they were all facing the same fate, all facing death and oblivion.

And the PPDC had been a shelter when it came to that. Sure, Newt had hated the rigid miliary hierarchy it worked with, hated the fact that he had had to go through basic fight training at the Jaeger Academy even though his only goal had been to join the K-Science division. Which – just so all was clear - didn't require any kind of fighting except for the verbal jousts he and Hermann had already been engaging in over e-mail for months. But he could at least admit that the PPDC had been good at keeping people focused on what united them instead of on what made them different from each other.

“It just seems so stupid to assume and judge like that, you know?” Newt said, continuing the conversation. “And it was none of that guy's business anyway. I had kind of forgotten how frustrating people could be, sometimes.”

They were standing in the middle of the pavement, and people were walking past them with frowns on their faces, disapproving. Vanessa didn't seem to care, though, and stayed where she was. She put her arms around him and hugged him tightly.

She was warm, and the smell of soap that came from her clothes was the familiar one that had started to cling to some of Newt's shirt as well.

He felt affection swell up in his chest, but realised that it wasn't an echo of Hermann's feelings. There wasn't anything romantic in what he felt for the woman. He just really enjoyed her company, enjoyed the way she was so open about everything, the way she always tried to find what would be best for everyone. She had become a friend, a good one, and Newt was glad of that.

As Vanessa slowly broke off the hug, Newt wondered how he would ever let this go, this thing with Hermann and Vanessa that felt strangely like coming home.

“You know you can always talk to us, right?” Vanessa asked. “Me or Hermann. About anything. We won't judge. I mean, Hermann has literally been in your head. He knows. So...”

Newt nodded.

“Thank you.”

 

**HERMANN**

 

Things were starting to make sense again. He was in the midst of negotiations for a position on the FUB' teaching and research staff, with the promise of an office and a team to work with. He was moving forward. Because, sure, he could probably find a way to work on his own with the tiniest of budget, had done so for qutie a while during his Hong Kong days, but it was nice to finally feel supported by an institution. Also, space. Institutions provided office space, which was great, because Hermann wasn't sure he would ever be able to convince Vanessa to install a blackboard in their apartment. And Newton would most _definitely_ laugh at him if he tried.

Hermann felt like his mental space had improved, in the past two weeks or so. Except for the incident after his fight with Newton, he had been spacing out less often than before. He wasn't sure if he felt able to work more because he was feeling better, or if he was feeling better because he had work to focus on, but he was grateful anyway.

Then there was Newton. Newton who had only been supposed to stay for a few days, maybe a week or two, and had somehow almost been there for a month. After the first ten days and their big fight, Hermann had found a way to fit his ex-colleague into his routine. He now looked forward to the exchanges they had about science and each other's projects. The fact that Vanessa was there to put her grain of salt into things only made everything better, and the way she and Newton seemed to go along as if they had already known each other for months made things seem like it had all been destiny. Watching them sit together on the couch, talking to each other or silently reading in each other's company filled Hermann with a warmth he didn't know what to do with. Perhaps because they represented two parts of his life that had never seemed compatible, but that had somehow started to work together. It felt almost selfish to wish for this to last.

So no, Hermann didn't mind Newt's presence anymore. He even liked it actually, and that was the weirdest thing. Because he had never felt that way since he and the other man had met in person. Sure, he and Newton had worked well together and had even taken care of each other during their worst days at the Shatterdome, but their presence in each other's spheres had been a requirement, not something they had seeked out of their own free will. In truth, they had never gotten along this well since the time when they had been exchanging e-mails, two scientists on different sides of an ocean, desperate for like-minded company.

Hermann remembered how Vanessa had joked about them both at that time, telling him that sometimes she felt like he prefered the company of his e-mails to hers. It hadn't been hard even for Hermann to realise that the jokes were a poor attempt at masking her all-too-real jealousy, and he had gone to lengths to convince her again and again that she was one of the most important people in the world for him.

But was that not true of Newton too, somehow? Hadn't Hermann risked his life for a chance to save the biologist's? Hadn't he made the conscious choice of sharing all of his thoughts and memories with the man, without hesitation, knowing it was necessary, that it had to be done, but also that he just didn't care about the consequences?

He cared about Newton Geiszler enough to drift with him. And maybe part of it had been to save his intellect, because the world needed Newton's genius and would still need it for years to come. Maybe part of it had been to save the world. But maybe part of him just cared for Newton on a personal level, more than he had ever wanted to admit.

Hermann realised that his new-found focus had started after his fight with Newton and the subsequent reconciliation. After they had actually talked their issues through.

He groaned.

For the past five minutes, he had been staring at the same page of paper, thinking about _Newton_ instead of his work. Hermann put his head between his hands, careful not to dislodge his reading glasses, and just _sighed_.

He stood up, put some order into his research notes and decided to call it a day. It would soon be time to prepare dinner anyway, and it had been a long time since he had cooked anything himself. Getting back into it would be nice.

Vanessa was sitting on the couch, engrossed in a biography of Ada Lovelace, and she didn't even look up when Hermann passed through the room. Newton, on the other hand, was sitting at the kitchen table, hunched over his computer with an expression on his face that could only mean he was trying to prove someone wrong. It was an expression Hermann knew well.

“You woudn't believe the horrid things that have been published while the Shatterdomes were closing,” Newton said without looking up. He had apparently become able to detect Hermann's presence instinctively and used that ability to talk to him while he kept working, without ever asking whether Hermann was okay with being dragged into these conversations. “I mean, I get that all the people in K-Science were trying to find new income from somewhere, but it's like they didn't even care about doing any research before publishing their theories.”

“You're one to talk. You are quite well known for talking for hours about conjectures without any solid foundations.”

If Newton had learned to detect his presence, Hermann had apparently become finely attuned to the other's frustration. He thought it a small miracle that Newton hadn't inherited his own habit of rolling his eyes from the drift.

“I talk to _you_ about my theories. Sometimes I talked to _Pentecost_ about my theories, because I needed resources to _start_ the research. I never _published_ those theories without solid evidence, because I am a fucking profesional who knows what the fuck he's doing.”

Hermann checked what was in the fridge, then started taking out what he needed from various cupboards around the kitchen.

“That didn't stop me from finding mistakes in your reasoning when you were sending your research to me. And I'm not even a biologist.”

“Are you misunderstanding all this on purpose?” Newton asked in a frustrated tone. Hermann just smiled from where his colleague couldn't see him. “Those were unpublished papers, things I was still working on! Besides, most of the so-called mistakes you found were from passages where I was jotting down theories as they came to me in the hope of studying their viability _later_ when I had _more data_.”

He then mumbled something about DNA sequencing that Hermann didn't catch and that was probably addressed to whoever had written the paper Newton was currently reading.

The conversation kept starting and dying down again as Newt read his article and wrote down his inflammatory response to it. Hermann started mixing the flour, eggs and milk, then put some water to boil. He had started cooking the pasta and was currently working on the onions when Newton finally looked up from his computer.

“Oh my god. Are you making Spätzle?”

“I am,” Hermann replied with a raised eyebrow, daring Newton to make a comment about the typical German-ness of the dish.

“Dude, I think I love you.”

The words made Hermann freeze, but he forced himself out of it. Newton was talking with his stomach right now, not anything else.

“No, I'm serious!” Newton exclaimed. “I haven't had Käsespätzle in years! Uncle Illya used to make it for me. It was kind of a comfort food when one of us was missing home. But I never bothered to learn the recipe, so when I moved out I kind of just... stopped eating it.”

“To be honest,” Hermann started. “it's one of the few things I know how to do well. We used to prepare it as a family when I was younger. It was a tradition of sorts.”

Newton laughed. “Vanessa and you are both kind of useless at cooking, you know that?”

“I think we've been feeding you decently, considering the circumstances. But if you ever want to take control of the kitchen and make us a three-course dinner, help yourself. We won't mind.”

“That's so kind of you. I'll consider it,” Newton replied, then winked.

It made something twist inside of Hermann, this easy banter and loud attitude. It felt like the old Newton, except with an additional sense of knowledge, of connection between them.

Hermann turned around and watched over the onions that were beginning to smell through the whole room. The pasta were nearly ready too, and he was starting to turn around and look for a dish to put everything in when he felt Newton come up behind him. Newton stopped thirty centimeters away from Hermann and just started sniffing the air with a sigh of delight.

Hermann didn't exactly know how to react to this intrusion of his personal space, but when Newton reached for the pan in which the onions were cooking, he smacked his hand away out of reflex.

“Ouch! That was mean!” Newton said with a melodramatic pout.

“Don't touch the food.”

“What's that about food?”

Vanessa's voice suddenly invaded the kitchen, and Hermann quickly turned towards her. She was looking between Newt and Hermann with a slight frown on her face, and Hermann immediately took a step back, continuing to prepare the food as a pretext for taking distance.

Newton seemed oblivious to all of it and faced Vanessa with a bright smile.

“Hermann is making Spätzle, and I'm in heaven right now.”

Vanessa's smile was flawless as she jokingly said: “That does explain the smell.”

Hermann wanted to reach out to his wife and apologise, although he hadn't done anything wrong and wasn't sorry about anything in particular. There was just something hurt in Vanessa's eyes that he desperately wanted to see disappear. But Newton was still in the room, blabbering about how he used to miss German food, clueless to the possibility of something being amiss.

In a way it was relaxing, the chatter acting as a kind of white noise and slowly dissipating the tension. Hermann finished preparing the food while Newton and Vanessa set the table, and when they all sat down he smiled at her until she smiled back. The atmosphere lightened after that, and they fell back into their usual tone of conversation.

 

The food tasted exactly how he remembered it, and Newt almost melted in his chair when he took the first bite. Hermann actually felt pride at that, a simple and happy pride that reminded him of meals with his family. He still hadn't seen his parents since coming back from Hong Kong, although he had called his brothers a couple of times and given Karla a few visits.

It was Newton's turn to be off washing-up duty, and he cheerfully walked to the living-room, both hands on his full belly, leaving the couple alone. Vanessa started to wash the dishes, making sure to use up as little water as possible. In a post-war period, nobody could really afford to waste resources, and the fact that Kaiju toxicity had impacted the climate for the worst didn't make things any better.

They worked in silence for a while, and Vanessa seemed relaxed. That one moment of close proximity with Newton and Vanessa's reaction still weighed on Hermann, though, so in the end he was the one to ask.

“Can we talk about something?”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: there's sex in this one

**HERMANN**

 

“Can we talk about something?”

Vanessa glanced in his direction, but stayed otherwise focused on doing the dishes. “Of course. Is anything the matter?”

Hermann kept on doing his job of drying everything, mostly so that his hands would be too busy to fidget. Despite experiencing less side-effects of the drift as days went on, this was still one habit of Newton's he hadn't been able to shake.

“I... I'm not sure. It's about Newton.”

Hermann hated the uncertainty in his own voice. His work and his life were both based on certainties, on things that could be proven and quantified.

_Poetry, politics, promises; those are lies._

And what were interpersonal relationships if not a form of politics? Hermann wasn't good with these things. But marriage was a promise after all, and he had been good at that until now.

Vanessa was looking at him with an encouraging smile, like she knew everything that was going through his head. He often had that feeling with her. They knew each other well enough that it felt like they had been drifting for years.

“Are you...” Hermann started. “Are you sure you're still okay with him staying here?”

“Of course,” Vanessa replied without hesitation. She frowned. “I was the one to invite him in the first place. What makes you think I would have changed my mind?”

“It's just...” How could he talk about the growing closeness between him and Newton without making it become real? The way the biologist found ways to creep under his skin used to be irritating, but now felt more comforting than anything else. That was the scary thing. Hermann couldn't say that they weren't friends anymore. He couldn't even say that they were just friends. “When we were... I saw you react, when we were in the kitchen. I was wondering if something was wrong.”

Vanessa looked away at that, as if she wanted to hide something. Hermann put down the last plate he had been drying. He stepped forward and slowly put a hand under her chin. He waited there a second, letting her move away if she wanted to. Vanessa let her face be turned towards him.

“'Nessa. Talk to me. I'm lost if you don't talk to me. I'm so lost already. I have no idea what's happening here. I don't know what's going on between Newton and me.”

The way Vanessa held Hermann's gaze had such a sadness to it it was almost cruel. “It's just that... you understand each other now. You've been inside each other heads. Sometimes I feel like he knows you better than I do.”

“'Nessa...”

There were so many things Hermann wanted to say. He wanted to explain that maybe it was true, maybe Newton did know him better now. But he only knew who Hermann really was, not who he wanted to be. He didn't know the person Vanessa brought out in him, the person he wanted to be just for her, just because she deserved all that Hermann could give.

He wanted to explain this, but wasn't sure how, and could only hope that some of the meaning would seep out in the way he pronounced her name.

“It's okay, though,” Vanessa continued. “It had to be expected. You changed, without me. I guess I probably changed too. It was a long time. Newton knows the new you and I don't, but that's okay. It just means I get to learn to know you again.” She leaned into his touch. “I love you. I'm sorry if it gets hard.”

Hermann bent forward slightly and kissed her.

If there was one thing that made this apartment feel like home, more than the papers spread across his desk or Vanessa's clothes spilling across his side of the wardrobe, it was how easily he could touch her. This made her real, and it made everything else worth it.

“But Newt's good for you,” Vanessa said as she broke away from the kiss. “So don't you dare turn him away again. I'm okay.”

It was her turn to put a hand on Hermann's face, fingers still slightly wet from the dishes, and lean in for another kiss.

“He makes you better. And sometimes that's hard for me to take, because I used to do that for you. But at the same time... At the same time, I want to see you two open up to one another even more. Because I know that whatever happens will be magnificent.”

Hermann leaned into his wife's touch and pressed his forehead against her. “But you do make me better, Vanessa. You always have and you always will. Even if... Even if something happens with Newton...”

 _Something_? What was that possibility? What was this elusive _something_? Something more than drifting, more than years of working together?

Or maybe not something more. Maybe just something different. Maybe that would be good, too. Even if he still wasn't sure what the _something_ was.

“Even if something happens, you'll still be important to me, Vanessa. _So_ important. And not just because you're my wife. Not just because you were there first, or for the longest time. You're important, you will _always_ be important to me, because I love you. I love you as the best friend I've ever had and as the woman I'm madly in love with. I love you as my family.”

Vanessa smiled at that, biting her lips as if she was holding back tears, and Hermann was glad that he had somehow been able to find the right words, or at least some of them.

“God, I damn well hope so. Everyone always said I would be the one to leave you, not the opposite. We can't ruin all of their expectations like this.”

Hermann grinned, then took her in his arms.

It was true that there had been rumors. People had talked behing their backs, accusing Vanessa of playing with him. Saying she never settled down, so what would she be doing with _him_ of all people? Saying that she was just pretending, that she wouldn't be able to keep it up. She had never wanted a romantic relationship in the first place, what was she doing getting _married_ of all things?

“I'm not leaving you. I still have so many things to discover, so many things to understand in you. And you know how much I hate to leave work unfinished.”

She nodded into his chest, then slightly pushed him away. “Come on. Let's get back to Newt, he's going to wonder what's happening if we stay here for too long. And god knows what he would do if he started to panic.”

Hermann raised an eyebrow. “Newton is not a dog, you know.”

“Are you sure? Because I kind of like the idea of adopting him as a pet.”

Hermann rolled his eyes. “Please. Do not _ever_ let him hear you say that. He would find a way to use it against us. I don't know how, but I'm certain he would.”

Vanessa let out a crytsalline laugh before walking out of the kitchen while Hermann put the last dried plates back in their place. He was glad he and Vanessa had been able to talk. Even if he wasn't certain his thoughts had gotten any clearer in the process. He still wasn't sure whether he was actually looking for something with Newton, or if it was just the proximity resulting from the drift that was going to his head. He sighed and shook his head. Mulling it over tonight was pointless, considering the state he was already in.

When he emerged into the living-room, Newton was grinning excitedly at the hallway that led to the bedrooms.

“Is something going on?” Hermann asked, immediately suspicious.

Newton just grinned harder. “What makes you say that?” He asked, all fake innocence.

Hermann just glared at him harder, non-plussed.

“Fine! Fine! Vanessa has something to show you. You should just wait here for a while. She's... finishing things.”

Hermann frowned. He was torn between the suspicion he had for anything involving Newton grinning like a fool and the fact that he trusted Vanessa not to do anything that would make him uncomfortable, especially after the conversation they had just had.

“Okay...”

“Come on! Don't just stand there. Sit down.” He patted the couch enthusiastically. “She'll probably be a few more minutes.”

Hermann raised an eyebrow. “Does this have anything to do with the fact you two were always going on errands on your own when you thought I wasn't looking?”

Newton froze, and Hermann couldn't help but smile. Had he really thought that Hermann hadn't noticed their odd behaviour? Newton was far from a discreet person, and even focused on his work it wasn't hard to notice when he was the only one in the apartment.

“Uh... yeah. It does. We wanted it to be a surprise.” Newton said. “In our defense, you'll probably like it? I mean, it's not much, but Vanessa's really proud of it. And you'll probably like it.” He paused, frowning. “Actually, just pretend that you like it whatever happens, because Vanessa spent a lot of time on it, and you would be kind of an asshole if you said you didn't appreciate her efforts. Just saying.”

“So you're asking me to lie?” Hermann asked, sitting down.

“No!” Newton immediately protested. “I mean... technically yes. But I'm like 99% sure you'll like it, which means you wouldn't need to pretend. It's just... It means a lot to Vanessa. And you don't have to _actually_ lie just... Be nice.”

“Newton. I'm messing with you.”

“I know,” Newton said, looking down at his lap with a pout. “I know, okay?”

“Don't be nervous. No matter what this surprise is, I already appreciate the gesture. It will be fine.”

Newton glared at him. “Just because we're psychically connected doesn't mean you should read all of my emotions _aloud_. I get to be nervous if I want to be nervous. You're not the boss of me.”

“I don't think I need any kind of psychic connection for this, Newton. You're quite easy to read, as far as people go.”

“I should be offended,” Newton said with a snort. “Also, say that to my old therapist. My parents paid him a fortune and he still couldn't figure out what was going on with me.”

This wasn't a subject that Newton often opened up about, and Hermann would have said something if Vanessa hadn't chosen that specific moment to come out of the guest room, hands held behind her back.

Newton's expression brightened again as he saw her. Whatever the surprise was, Hermann thought, just seeing him and Vanessa this happy was enough for him.

“Okay. So I made something for you. Newton helped me at the end, because I'm really not that good at this but... I hope you'll like it.”

She thrust a huge scarf into his arms, something nearly two meters long, he guessed. It was striped blue and grey. Hermann didn't know what to say. The wool was soft under his fingers, and although the stitches were sometimes irregular and the whole thing had an obvious self-made look, it was pretty and warm.

He looked up, and Vanessa was smiling at him, looking far more relaxed than Newton, who was still fidgeting.

“Thank you,” Hermann said, completely honest. He really didn't know why Newton had been so worried. The design of the scarf was simple, but elegant enough, and it looked _comfortable_. Hermann also knew that Vanessa wasn't a really manual person, that she had always hated all of her university projects that had involved actually building things with her own two hands. The gift was even more meaningful considering that. “It's beautiful. You just... You made this?”

Vanessa nodded. “Looked up some tutorials online. It's like... the easiest model I found. I hope I can try to make something more complicated in time, but for now that's the extent of it, I'm afraid.”

“That's... Knitting? Really?”

Vanessa shrugged. “If I'm going to be a stereotype of the pregnant wife, I might as well just go all-in. Also, I kind of hate not having to work anymore. I'm just sitting around and going to medical appointments. I feel useless. It's boring. So I thought I might as well give it a try. And, like I said, Newt helped me.”

That was a surprise too. Newton liked keeping his hands busy, that much had been obvious from his poor attempt at _fixing_ their toaster – rest in pieces. But _knitting_ wasn't something that seemed especially fitting of his general aesthetic.

Hermann turned towards him them, a smile creeping up his face when he realised that Newton was _blushing_.  
  
 **VANESSA**

 

Vanessa felt happy. She felt happy, and at the same time like there was something completely wrong with her.

Of course, being happy to see Hermann smile was normal. Being happy that he appreciated her gift was totally fine as well. Hell, feeling so much contentment over something as silly as the fact that she'd been able to finish knitting a scarf was justified in her situation.

That wasn't at all what was wrong.

What was wrong was that Hermann was smiling at _Newt_ , and for some reason that made her feel all warm inside. Surely she should have felt cold? Surely she should have felt frozen with jealousy, with envy? She had always thought she was a possessive person. The fact that Hermann had never shown romantic interest in anyone else after they had started dating had always felt like a victory to her. He was hers, just as she was his, and Vanessa wasn't above rubbing that fact in other people's faces if she ever felt like there was a need for it.

So why? Why was she feeling only warmth and tenderness? Why was she basically throwing her own husband in someone else's arms, even if he didn't seem to have actually noticed that was where he was headed? Sure, she liked Newt. That probably played into it. The man had the _weirdest_ sense of comedic timing but still managed to be funny, he was as fiercely intelligent as Hermann had described him for all these years, but he was also _kind_ , thoughtful in a way that was so easy to miss under all the bravado and general loudness.

Actually... Wasn't that even worse? Wasn't it worse that the person Hermann was getting closer to was someone who Vanessa now considered her friend? Wasn't it even crazier to know how good a person Newt was and still think she wouldn't lose Hermann?

If she was crazy, she felt lucky to be so. She knew so many relationships and marriages that had been destroyed by a lack of trust. When Hermann had first joined the PPDC, Vanessa had started getting comments about their bravery, about how her friends just “wouldn't have been able to do it,”  like the distance meant anything to a love that had been there for so long it felt like the one constant in her life. Like it meant anything to the promises they had made to each other. Like it meant anything other than things being a little harder, when the alternative was to give up the only thing in her life that kept on giving.

Was it possible to have too much trust in a relationship that was built on the knowledge that both people involved wanted it to last forever? Was it delusional to believe in the love someone had given you for so long? Was she insane for not being scared?

Or had she stopped caring without realising?

Vanessa didn't let any of her thoughts show on her face as Newt embarrassedly explained to Hermann how he'd picked up knitting with Vanessa and how it was actually a very calming activity, because you could let your thoughts drift when doing it, but only to a certain extent, and so it kept him grounded and focused.

When Hermann thanked her again, Vanessa leaned in for a kiss. That was enough to ground her and let her know she was worrying for no reason. Things that needed to happen would happen. But Hermann wasn't pulling away from her. Why should she care that he reached out to others? She had him here with her. No matter how far apart they had been, she had always had him near her heart.

 

Hermann must have noticed the gleam in Vanessa's eyes when they went to bed that night, because the kiss he gave her after they'd brushed their teeth was no goodnight kiss.

Vanessa opened her mouth into it, eager, and pushed him towards the bed, giving him just enough time to sit down on the edge of it before she settled over him, knees on either side of his. She had one hand on his cheek and the other on his shoulder as she deepened the kiss even more, tongue making a thorough job of exploring his mouth.

She didn't feel like this was about claiming him for herself. It was just that she wanted him, and it was encouraging to know she had the right to. It was encouraging to have Hermann want her back the same way, with an intensity bordering on need.

It had been strange, when Hermann had first come back, to greet him in a body that felt changed. Vanessa had been scared she wouldn't want sex, or that _he_ wouldn't, not right now. They had never been the most active in that domain, both their sex drive being generally low. But after so many months of distance, the thought of not being wanted, even if it was just physically, had hurt a little. Her fears had been misplaced, though, as she had discovered soon after his return. Hermann still looked at her body with awe in his eyes, and the want she felt for him, only ever for him, had returned with a vengeance.

She thought it might soon become rarer again, as she was quickly approaching her due date, but that just meant she had to make the most of what she felt now.

And what she felt now was _on fire_ , as Hermann ran one hand slowly up and down her side, the other placed on one of her asscheeks – offering her support being as good an excuse as any to cop a feel.

She wanted to laugh. It was a habit of hers, during sex, to giggle a lot. She just felt so happy and excited, she had to let it out somehow.

She let her hands trail down from Hermann's face to pull at his sweater. “Come on, off, off!” Hermann seemed reluctant to move his arms away from her own body, but finally obliged at her insistence, letting her pull the garment off him. Vanessa then made quick work of his shirt buttons. He obligingly took said shirt off himself once opened, and then it was his turn to pull at Vanessa's clothes as if they had personally offended him.

Vanessa let herself laugh at that. She felt giddy. She felt like she was light as a feather, a sensation she had to admit she sometimes missed, with the weight of another body growing inside hers.

Now only wearing her bra over her jeans, Vanessa watched her husband carress her belly softly for a few seconds, as if to acknowledge the life inside it. Immediately after, though, his gaze focused back on _her_ , on her only. Vanessa felt a shiver run down her spine and bent down to kiss Hermann again, letting her hands roam all across the skin of his back. He was more focused than her, directly aiming for the clip that kept her bra in place, unfastening it and slowly running a finger across the slight mark the elastic had left on her skin.

As he started lowering her straps, Vanessa moved away. She stepped off the bed and dropped her bra in the laundry basket they kept in one corner of the room. She started taking her jeans off slowly, letting Hermann watch for a while. She hooked her fingers into her simple black panties, but left them there. “Don't let me do all the work,” she said with a smile.

Hermann echoed it. “Why not? I certainly don't mind it.”

They grinned. Both of them knew the banter was an act, but did it matter? Did it matter what version of themselves they were playing, when they both knew the other would be satisfied with any of them?

“I've treated you too well since you came back. You're becoming complacent.”

“I'm sure I can be convinced to do better, with the right incentive.”

Vanessa bit down on her lower lip, trying not to laugh. She dropped her panties in the basket and walked back to the bed. She kissed Hermann again, long and deep, and bit down on his lower lip softly. He groaned at that, unvolontarily scratching her back with his nails before soothing the skin with a caress. Vanessa sucked at his lip for a few seconds before pulling back. Hermann tried to follow her mouth, but Vanessa put a hand on his chest, forcing him to fully lean back on the bed.

She lay down on her side, curled a little, and pressed a kiss on Hermann's jaw, right under his ear. The man shivered, closing his eyes, so Vanessa sucked carefully on the same spot, making hims squirm slightly. She didn't leave a mark, not somewhere so visible. Instead, she kissed her way down Hermann's neck, teasing him with barely there touches.

When she reached his collarbones, she stopped playing nice, and bit down on the skin right under them.

“ _Vanessa_ ,” Hermann groaned, like her name was a curse word or a prayer. He raised his chest off the bed slightly, as if he could bring her mouth somehow closer, as if he could get her to enter his skin if only he wanted it enough. Vanessa licked at the abused skin, rubbing soothing circle with one thumb just above her husband's hip. She started sucking then, like they were in their twenties again, still more children in their hearts than adults and tasting each other's skin for the firs time, discovering that there were things you could never get enough of.

Once she was satisfied the mark she had left would still be there the next morning, Vanessa moved on, trailing her mouth down Hermann's chest and running one of her hands over his neck and shoulder. When she had reached the waistband of his trousers, she bit down once again, but pulled away immediately after that.

Hermann looked up at her, pupils blown. His loud breaths echoed between them.

“Incentive enough?” Vanessa asked with a smirk.

Hermann threw a hand over his eyes. “I married a devil.”

Vanessa lied back down next to him, pushing his hand away and turning his head towards her so she could give him a soft kiss.

“Any regrets?”

“Never.”

Vanessa shivered at the easiness of it, the certainty that had made her able to ask the question in the first place. How could she ever even think of giving this up?

Hermann stood up to kick off the last of his clothes as Vanessa looked at him. He kissed her again and joined her on the bed. They always kissed so many times when they were doing this. Maybe it was because talking felt weird, in these circumstances. At least _real_ talking, talking that wasn't a character, a game. But their kisses didn't lie. They were reassurance and encouragement all at once, an anchor and a safe territory.

“Come on,” Vanessa said, pulling away. She gestured vaguely at the pillows, but Hermann seemed to understand her meaning. He propped one up against the headboard to lie down against it, and slipped one under his hips to avoid some of the pain.

His knees were bent, and Vanessa pushed them apart, kneeling between them. Hermann was looking at her with wonder in her eyes, like he had so many times. And, like so many times before, Vanessa felt a surge of power run through her, which immediately turned to want. That feeling too was echoed in her husband, if the erection between his legs was anything to go by.

“I guess you deserve a reward for finally playing nice,” she said. Before Hermann could even beging thinking of a reply, she licked a trail from the bottom to the top of his cock, softly sucking the tip into her mouth.

“Oh, fuck, Vanessa-” Hermann was already clenching his fists in the fabric of their blanket, forcing himself not to move, and one of Vanessa's hands was holding the base of his cock, the other trailing shivers down his chest. She _wanted_.

There was this nice thing, about sex... Well, sex itself was a nice thing if you were in the mood and had a respectful partner. But the other nice thing about it was that Vanessa didn't feel scared. Hermann's erection in her mouth, heat pulsing through her body and Hermann's sighs barely covering the filthy sounds of her sucking, she wasn't worrying about the future. She wasn't worrying about all that had changed. She wasn't worrying about who she was, who the person in her bed was. The only scary thing in the room right now was the intensity of her desire, and that was _thrilling._

Hermann has one hand in her short hair now, scratching slightly in a way that sent tingles of contentment down Vanessa's spine. All too soon, though, he was tugging at it, pulling her away.

She sat herself up, and she knew she probably had drool on her face. But Hermann didn't seem to care, his breathing ragged and a flush spreading down his cheeks to his chest. He reached for her and Vanessa went willingly, would have followed him anywhere, to the end of the universe if she didn't know he would never allow himself to ask that of her.

She settled herself above his hips, bending forward to kiss him once more, to let him find his own taste between her lips. Her belly was pressing against his, and the tiny human inside was one more thing bringing them together. Not a barrier but a bridge.

And then Hermann's hands were on her skin, trailing down her back, to her thighs, before one came to rest between her legs. Vanessa sighed.

She put both hands on the headboard to get some balance, and closed her eyes as two fingers slowly started rubbing against her clit. She felt the wetness almost dripping between her lips, sending flames up to her stomach. But she was in no hurry to put out this fire.

She opened her eyes again, and Hermann caught her gaze. At the same moment, his fingers slipped inside her, easily, like they belonged there. She let out a moan and rocked her hips slightly, like it was an experiment. “Yes, _please_ ,” she found herself whimpering as Hermann started rocking his hand in an out, letting her get used to the stretch. He found the spot inside her that made her keen, and quickly obliged to her whispers of _more, come on,_ by slipping a third finger inside her.

Despite telling herself that she wanted this to last for eternity, Vanessa knew she wouldn't be able to support her weight forever, and this was the easiest position to keep her belly safe. So she raised her hips a little, pushing Hermann's hand away.

He casually licked Vanessa's fluids off of the top of his fingers, which was a habit of his that still made Vanessa weak in the knees.

So she didn't lose any time taking the base of Hermann's cock in hand and lining herself up.

“You okay?”

Hermann nodded, hands coming up to rest at Vanessa's hips and a smile resting on his lips. “Rarely been better.”

Vanessa grinned as she lowered herself down onto Hermann. She started a slow rhythm of half-rise and fall, accompanied by the rolling of her hips.

This was nice. It wasn't the fireworks most romantic novels talked about, but it was still a kind of warmth coursing through her whole body. It was comfort and intimacy and the feeling of being safe and known and loved.

“Vanessa...” Hermann's voice was strained, his hips making uncontrolled little motions. Vanessa started moving in earnest, adjusting her angle and taking Hermann deeper inside. They let out a sigh at the same time, which made Vanessa giggle again.

And then Hermann moved one hand from her hip to her clit, and the giggling turned into a moan of pleasure. After that, it wasn't long before she felt the wave of sensations cresting, and then spasms breaking out throughout her lower body as she came. She tried to keep moving as much as she could through the aftershocks, but could feel her legs shaking.

Hermann had to muffle a whine as Vanessa slowly pulled herself off him. She bent down to kiss the sound away, savoring the echoes of it in her mouth. “Sorry, my legs are aching, but here, let me...”

She lied down on her side, pulling Hermann towards her so he would do the same and they could keep on kissing. Vanessa slipped one of her hand under him, fingers coming to rest in the short hair at the back of his neck and keeping him close. With her other hand, she gathered some of the fluid from her oversensitive folds, mixing it with the precome leaking from Hermann's tip and slowly moving her hand up and down his shaft.

Hermann was feeding a steady streams of sighs and little groans into her mouth, and she swallowed them greedily. He thrust into her fist a few more times before coming, acccidentally biting down on Vanessa's lower lip as he did. He apologized for the bite as soon as he'd come back to himself, licking at it like one would suck one's own papercut to make it clean. Maybe that was what love was. Taking each other's wounds as our own and feeling grateful for it.

She ignored the dark thoughts creeping back around the edge of her brain. This wasn't the time. Not when Hermann was there and she could keep on kissing him until everything felt better.

When they fell asleep after cleaning up a bit, both curled around a single point in the middle of the matress, it really did feel like everything would just magically fix itself.

 

**NEWT**

 

When he heard footsteps coming in from the master bedroom, Newt couldn't find the energy in himself to feel surprised. He was tired. He was fucking exhausted, but thoughts were racing in his mind and he couldn't sleep. He couldn't breathe right. His throat felt like it was filled with water, even if he knew it wasn't true, even if it didn't make any sense, even if it wasn't physically _possible_. But fuck physically possible anyway. If alien beings had entered their world through a breach in the ocean, the universe was pretty sure to find a way to make Newt Geiszler drown on thin air.

So, when he heard the door to the living room creak open, Newt wasn't surprised. He was too busy staring at the city lights and counting the time between his breaths.

“Are you okay?” Hermann asked, immediately concerned.

“Just fucking peachy,” Newt replied. He looked up at his colleague – ex-colleague – friend, trying to grin even through his laboured breathing. Judging by the crease between Hermann's eyebrows, he hadn't been very successful. Well, you got nothing if you didn't try.

Hermann himself didn't look especially good. That did register as surprising, even in Newt's anxiety-addled brain. After all, from what Newt had heard before fishing out his headphones and putting on a podcast, his night had started out quite well, and he should have been relaxed enough to sleep okay after that.

Except obviously not, because Hermann was standing next to him right now. Maybe they really were still connected through some kind of ghost-drift. Maybe it was Newt's fault, once again. Maybe his fucked up brain had decided that ruining his own life wasn't enough, but that he had to drag Hermann into it as well.

… Yeah. That kind of thinking wasn't really helping with the anxiety attack right then.

“Can I help?” Hermann asked, ever the gentleman.

Newt wanted to cry a little, because that man deserved way better than the world he was stuck in. “It should pass,” Newt managed to croak out. “Better not to touch me, probably, but you can just... stay?”

Newt's head was reeling, filled with so many memories of trying to explain what was wrong with him, curled up in a hallway at uni. He had been trying so hard then not to show how close to the edge he was. He was already a freak, second youngest student at MIT with too loud a personality and the remnants of a foreign accent. He didn't want to also become the weirdo who broke down in the hallway in the middle of a lecture, the kid who obviously couldn't handle the pressure of university despite what people said about his genius.

It hadn't been all that bad, obviously. He _had_ handled it. Had handled it over and over until he had six doctorates. But there had been moments, in the first year especially, when he had almost given up, and the kindness of strangers asking him if he was okay had been one of the only tenuous threads he could hold onto.

It wasn't a stranger beside him this time. It was Hermann. And that meant he wasn't hanging by a thread, but by a sturdy rope. He could do this. They could do this. They owed it to the universe they'd saved to continue being the most kickass scientists it had ever seen.

It wasn't a little bit of insomnia and panic that was going to ruin that for him. He'd been through worse. Through real stuff.

It took a few more minutes, but Newt finally managed to calm his breathing to a normal rhythm. His head felt like it was full of cotton and he was utterly _exhausted_ , but at least the panic was over now.

“Thanks,” he said, patting Hermann's shoulder where he had sat down next to him.

Herman raised an eyebrow. “I didn't do anything.”

Newt shrugged. “It helps sometimes to just have someone there who's not freaking out. Sorry for waking you up, by the way.”

“Waking me up?” At Hermann's confusion, Newt gestured between their two brains. “Oh. Well. It's not your fault.”

They lapsed into silence after that, both of them lost in contemplation of the night outside. It made Newt think of joining Hermann on one of his rare cigarette breaks when they were in the Shatterdome. At that point, the sound of helicopters had become a background noise they could ignore, so if they stared towards the ocean it felt like stealing a moment of quiet. There was no more stealing to be done, now. The silence was there, everywhere, ready for the taking. Ready to take you if you let it.

“Vanessa doesn't want you to leave.”

It was so unexpected for Hermann to be breaking the quiet that Newt had to take a moment to run the sentence through his head again to understand what it meant. Even then, though, he couldn't say he understood what Hermann actually wanted to say. “Uh?” was therefore the only reply he managed to mutter. Newt blamed it on the insomnia.

“I was... concerned. About how she truly felt about this situation. I thought she might be agreeing to something she didn't really want just because she thought it was necessary. We're... we're starting a family. I wanted to make sure that that happened in conditions that fit her, fit us. I know we'll probably never get to have a _normal_ life. At least not what _normal_ used to mean, before the War. But I wanted to make sure she was okay.”

“That makes sense,” Newt said through the tennis ball that had lodged in his throat. A _normal_ life. Newt didn't have any fucking clue what that was supposed to be, before or after the War. He didn't belong here. He didn't belong in the life of people who had it _together_. He was just going to drag these people he cared about in his own messes. They were expecting a _child_ for fuck's sake. Could he really be selfish enough to do that to them just because he didn't have any idea where else to go?

“She basically forbade me to send you away,” Hermann continued.

And that... was not what Newt had been expecting. What he had expected was something along the line of _We don't want you to leave, but we can't really let you stay either_. And it didn't sound like Hermann to tell him something like that right after a panic attack, but then what else could Newt have expected?

“What?”

Hermann wasn't looking at him, instead keeping his gaze straight to the window. One of his hand was fidgeting with the fabric of his pajama pants.

“She thinks we're... good. For each other. I guess that, in a way, she thinks she has more chances of losing me if you're not here.”

“Losing you...?”

“To all the things in our heads.” He did turn back towards Newt at that. His skin looked paler than usual, bathed in a mix of moon and streetlight. He looked... resigned. The kind of resignation Newt had always hated. The kind that was only a hair's breadth away from giving up.

It was the kind of resignation that had been all over people's faces when the Shatterdomes had started closing. And Hermann had powered through that. He had proved everyone wrong, had proved that the Jaeger program could work. That they had a better chance with his code and his calculations than with a stupid wall. Hermann had had a cause then, and he had fought through the resignation.

Did he not have a cause now? Was his own sanity not worthy enough to be saved? Was his family, the life he had, the people who cared about him not enough to protect?

Newt couldn't take that look. He couldn't, wouldn't accept its existence in the world. He couldn't accept that something was ruining Hermann's life and he was just _letting it_. Newt couldn't bear the idea that _he_ could lose Hermann.

And so he didn't think about it. He let his anger and his fear drown out every rational part of his mind, and he surged forward, putting one hand on Hermann's cheek and kissing him.

Once he had gone this far, Newt guessed he might as well give it his all. If he had just ruined the longest lasting friendship in his life, he would at least get a good kiss out of it. So he didn't stop at a peck and instead prayed to whatever fortune had favored him enough to let him live until this day. He pressed his lips to Hermann's with _intent_ , despite the awkward angle, despite the fatigue, despite the fact that this was probably the worst idea he'd ever had even though he had drifted with a kaiju brain on junk equipment that he'd had to steal. But at least he couldn't see that fucking expression in Hermann's eyes anymore. Newt couldn't see anything, because he had closed his eyes out of reflex and was now 100% sure it would be better for his sanity if he kept them that way.

He kind of expected Hermann to pull away and slap him. At least push him out of reach. Maybe to start screaming. Newt would deserve it. Why had he been so stupid? There was such a thing as consent in this world, and he had just ignored it and kissed his married-soon-to-be-father-ex-colleague-slash-friend. This time, he probably deserved any kind of shitstorm life was about to throw his way.

Except that this was a night for the unexpected, apparently. Because after one frozen second, Hermann let himself melt into Newt's touch. He wasn't pulling away. He was actively participating.

Newt was the one who had to recoil at that.

The way Hermann's eyes opened after he had let go, drowsily, his pupils slightly blown from lack of proper lighting or _something else_ , would probably haunt Newt forever. Hermann had no right to look this delicate, not when his personality was all jagged edges and spikes with a giant “KEEP OUT” sign stuck on top of it. Newt wanted to kiss him again.

Newt Geiszler was an asshole homewrecker who wanted someone else's husband to stay with him on their couch, when said someone else was two rooms away and sleeping soundly after having had sex with aforementioned husband just a few hours earlier.

There must be a seat in hell with his name on it by now. And all he could think about was that he wanted to kiss Hermann again.

“I'm sorry,” Newt said. “I'm so sorry. I don't know what I was doing. I don't know what I was thinking. I wasn't. Thinking, I mean. I'm sorry.”

Hermann furrowed his brows. And then he ran his thumb over Newt's lower lip. And that was... something. It sure as hell was something, and Newt' brain didn't seem to want to compute what exactly.

“Can I...?” Hermann asked, and then he was leaning closer.

There was definitely a seat in hell with Newt's name on it. But what a fantastic way to get there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this... relationship development??? oh my god!!!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People talk and things get cute!  
> (and maybe a bit creepy)

**NEWT**

 

He was sitting on the couch/bed in the Gottliebs' living-room and Hermann was kissing him. Somehow this was the situation life had brought him to and Newt didn't know if he should start crying or laughing or maybe both at the same time.

He did know that he didn't want to stop kissing Hermann, so any and all over-the-top expressions of emotions would have to wait a while longer.

Hermann had one hand in his hair, so Newt didn't feel entirely awful about fisting one of his in the other man's shirt. He opened his mouth, testing, and then suddenly there was Hermann's tongue against his own. Newt couldn't help himself and let out a moan, and Hermann's hand tightened and _that_ just made it worse.

They broke apart, eventually, although Newt wasn't sure how long it took because he was also not sure he was still breathing at that point.

“What the fuck,” he eloquently said, because his brain had decided that being helpful was something he would just stop doing from then on. The traitor.

Hermann was staring at him and somehow managing to look both confused and determined. It was rather impressive. At least he didn't look hurt or disgusted, so Newt was optimistic about his current chances of survival.

“I...” Hermann started, then stopped. At least Newt wasn't the only one who seemed to have problems with human language, so there must be some kind of justice in the world. “I don't...”

“What do you say of never talking about this again?” Newt asked.

Just saying it brought bile to his mouth, but it was the best solution. Newt hadn't expected this to go anywhere. He hadn't been thinking. He just hadn't been able to express all that he felt for Hermann in any other way. But it didn't have to mean more than that, did it? It didn't have to be more than a mistake they'd made because they weren't thinking. It didn't have to be the thing that ruined it for all of them. Hermann had just said that Vanessa thought Newt should stay with them and what had he done then? Tried to prove to him how terrible an idea it was?

“What do you mean?” Of course Hermann answered a question with another question. Newt had to remember there was a reason he hated that guy nearly as much as he loved him.

“I mean that... that this doesn't have to be a thing. Just... blame it all on my lack or sleep or something and forget it ever happened. I don't want to... It wasn't ever my plan to barge into your life and mess it up. I don't want to mess things up more than I have to, and we _don't_ have to do this. We don't have to acknowledge my... whatever. We can just forget about it.”

“I don't think that's true.”

Of course. How could Newt have thought that Hermann would suddenly defy the laws of nature and decide _not_ to argue? If he stared down at his lap and focused hard enough on not feeling embarrassed that they were having this conversation while he was in his boxers, maybe Hermann would just disappear and Newt would wake up and realise this had all been a dream.

“I don't think we're the kinds of people who can just forget about this. I don't think we're the kinds of people for whom this doesn't mean anything.”

Newt groaned, rubbing a hand over one of his eyes. “Can't we at least fucking try?”

“Do you really want to?”

Newt looked up. What kind of a question was that? What did what he wanted have to do with any of this?

It was never about what you wanted to do. It was about what _had_ to be done.

“That's not the point.”

“What is, then?”

“The point is that we're both messed up in the head. The point is that you have a wife and a kid. The point is that I was already a time bomb ready to ruin all of that before we even got to the...” Newt faltered. “... kissing part.”

Hermann sighed. “I've been... thinking. And please don't think I'm trying to talk you into anything you don't want. That's the opposite of what I want to do. But I've been thinking that... you've become... important. To me. To my life. I have a family, but for years I could barely see them. And when they weren't there... you were. And that's... There's no point trying to pretend there is this huge distance between us. There's not. We shared _brains_.”

“Yeah, well. We had to save the world and shit. That has to go some way towards excusing the whole thing.”

“Are you misunderstanding me on purpose?”

“I don't know. You aren't really making any sense.”

Hermann sighed again, looking more tense and frustrated than anyone had the right to be while wearing pajamas. “Let me phrase things more simply, then. I don't want to forget about you kissing me, because I actually _enjoyed_ it. Which is why I kissed you _back_. I do have a family that I'm building here, but that doesn't mean I want to send you away. I would actually rather you stay and try to become a part of it. Vanessa thinks you're good for me, and I think she might be right, and we can talk to her about this. I think that's the right thing to do.”

Newt was fucked. Newt was fucked, because apparently Hermann was able to pluck the right words directly out of Newt's brain.

“You can't say that. You can't say that's the right thing to do. How are we supposed to even make this work? It's the stupid thing to do. It's the _selfish_ thing to do.”

“I said I _think_ it's the right thing, Newton. I'm not sure if it really is, yet. I'm not sure if it's gonna work. But I want to try, I think. I want to see what this...” He gestured between the two of them and Newt felt his lungs shrink. “.. can be. If it's a stupid thing... fine. It wouldn't be the first one. We drifted with a kaiju.” There was a half laugh behind his words as he said it, like he still couldn't believe it. “I'll take my chances with this. As for it being selfish... I think we've earned the right to a little selfishness. I think that after sacrificing ten years for the good of other people, we should be allowed to think of ourselves a little. And I think that... as long as it doesn't hurt others, it's not really selfish at all.”

Newt felt like he was going to cry. This was the weirdest night ever – and he had had some pretty absurd ones when working on his fourth and fifth doctorates. He was tired, and all his emotions felt three times bigger than his body, and Hermann was saying perfect and beautiful things like for once Newt hadn't messed up everything, and he just wanted to cry. He wanted to rest. He wanted to know what the hell was going on.

He also wanted to kiss Hermann again, and that seemed like the easiest urge to satisfy right now.

 

**VANESSA**

 

Vanessa didn't enjoy mornings. She would have liked to be the kind of person who enjoyed mornings. She considered liking mornings a very high-value personality traits. Nobody could accuse her of hating mornings on principle. It wasn't her fault.

Mornings were awful, because they involved extricating herself from her cocoon of warm blankets and pretending to be a functional human being even if she felt like anything but one.

On the best of days – ones where she had nowhere to be and Hermann had woken up before her and put some coffee to brew – Vanessa didn't like mornings. So when she walked into the kitchen on that specific one and was greeted by Newt and Hermann saying they needed to talk to her in perfect unison, her first thought was a loud and heartfelt _fuck_.

Her second thought, the one she allowed herself to speak aloud because she had been raised to be polite in all circumstances was:

“You two are so creepy when you do that. I need some coffee.”

The comment didn't even earn her a chuckle, which Vanessa took to mean that the situation was rather serious. But at least Newt was sliding her a cup of gorgeous black liquid, and Hermann had put some bread into the toaster.

“What is it?” Vanessa asked.

Newt and Hermann exchanged a look, but didn't answer. This conversation was going to be a mess, she could feel it.

“It's...” Newt gave up after the first word, gazing helplessly at Hermann, towards whom Vanessa turned her gaze.

Hermann was fidgeting with the buttons on the toaster. This didn't bode well. Nervousness was starting to filter through the fog of Vanessa's barely awake brain.

“It's about what we talked about yesterday,” Hermann finally said. “About Newton staying here and... about me and Newton.”

“Okay. Is this not okay with you anymore, Newt?” Vanessa asked.

He immediately shook his head. “No. That's not that at all. I'm super grateful that you're letting me stay. It's been awesome. It's just that...” He turned to Hermann once more. Vanessa furrowed her brows. “IkindofkissedHermannlastnightI'msorry.”

Vanessa stared. A string of words had just come out of Newt's mouth, but she couldn't have said what exactly for a thousand euros. And Newt was looking at her expectantly, like she was supposed to react.

“I'm sorry... What was that?”

“What Newt is trying to say,” Hermann came to the rescue. “Is that he kissed me last night. And I kissed him back. And since neither of us found the experience unpleasant... We wanted to talk to you about it.”

So this was what she had felt boiling under the surface of their relationship. This was the shadow that had been lurking, the thing she had feared at first and then embraced.

Vanessa was surprised, and at the same time not at all.

She took time to assess where she stood.

She had meant it when she had told Hermann that he needed Newt in his life. She had meant it when she had said it just wasn't worth it for her to stand in the way of that, that it would just make all of them unhappy. But the situation had been abstract then. It seemed much more concrete now.

They were giving her a say in this, and they would respect her judgement. She trusted them to do that. She trusted them, _period_. And that was what it came down to. That was her answer, ready to be plucked.

“I trust you,” she said, forcing herself to look at them instead of at her cup of coffee. This was important. “I trust that you're trying to do what's best for one another, and I want you to be happy. Both of you.” Newt looked like he was almost crying, but it was Hermann that Vanessa turned to. “I love you. And I know you love me. And as long as that's true I'll be here and I'll support you in whatever makes you happy.”

“Vanessa...”

The toaster went off before he could say anything else. “Get me that, will you?”

Hermann brought her a plate, looking slightly dazed. That was what you got for drinking tea in the morning. And _she_ was supposed to be the British one.

She started putting jam on her bread. She wasn't sure she believed that if you pretended things were normal they would turn out that way, but it couldn't hurt to try.

“Thanks,” Newt said after she had started eating and Hermann had finally sat down. “I mean that.”

Vanessa nodded around her mouthful of toast. “Don't make it weird.” She swallowed. “We're going to have to set up some rules if we want this to work.”

“That makes sense,” Hermann agreed.

Newt seemed unconvinced. “Does it? Does any of this make sense?”

Vanessa shrugged. “You managed to make sense of giant monsters coming out of the ocean. Do you really think this is somehow scarier?”

Newt shrugged. “Kinda? I understand science. People, I don't get. Also, I studied science for freaking years. I've never done... this, before.”

Vanessa had a feeling that he didn't only mean the specific situation they were in. She also had a feeling this wasn't the time to bring up a potentially embarrassing subject.

“Yeah, well. I think we're all making things up as we go along. Don't let my perfectly composed exterior fool you. I just don't have enough caffeine in me to freak out yet.”

At least that made Newt smile. At least that dissipated some of the tension. She didn't mind having to appear strong. Hiding emotions was easy. The problem was always to find a balance between wanting to be a stable support for others and actually figuring out your own feelings.

“So,” Hermann chimed in. “You were talking about rules. Do you have anything in mind?”

His gaze was latched onto hers. She felt like he was making her the center of attention to ensure she didn't feel left behind or like he was moving away from her. It was an appreciated gesture.

Vanessa shrugged, and took the time to eat some more of her toast and sip at her coffee. “I'm not entirely sure yet. Probably boundaries will come up that we can't really plan for. On my side and on yours.” She wanted to make sure they knew that. That it wasn't all about her even if they _had_ just sprung the whole mess on her. “But I guess there are some basic things like... You need to talk to me. Obviously I don't want all of the details on what you guys are doing together, but I need to know what's going on emotionally. I guess _don't cut me out_ is an obvious rule as well. I don't know how... how comfortable I would be with seeing you two be... physically affectionate.” Both Newt and Hermann flinched at that one, and it was a close call for Vanessa herself. “But it's not a hard no. It's just... We'll need to test things out, I think. Don't think that...” She sighed, giving herself time to prepare her words. “Don't think that I won't be jealous. That I'm not. I'm making a rational decision because I know that this could work and be better for all of us, but rationality and feelings don't mix well most of the time. So I'm going to need some time to figure out if this works for me. And I would appreciate it if you guys could take it slow in the meantime.”

“I hope you know I'm not trying to steal him from you,” Newt told her, earnest. “Fuck. I don't know how to say this but... I know how much Hermann loves you. I know it because I felt it. And I know that people and situations change, and so feelings change too but that... Those feelings are so big, you know? I think it would take a lot to change them.” He was blushing as he talked, which was frankly adorable. The words themselves warmed Vanessa's heart, because she knew Newt wouldn't have said them if he didn't believe in their truth. “And I never want to stand between what you guys have. I would hate myself for that. I already feel like the luckiest guy in the world knowing you're not kicking me out so... yeah. Thank you for trusting me, I guess.”

 

**HERMANN**

 

Hermann took up half a croissant and started spreading Nutella on it and that was... it. This was what happened the morning after you started re-thinking your whole life. This was what happened when your ex-colleague-turned-friend kissed you and you kissed him back, when you realised that there was more you wanted in life than what was enough.

That morning, Hermann admired his wife's strength of character and kindness, and put Nutella on his croissant. Just like on any other morning.

After years and years of waking up and wondering what fundamental principle of the universe had been overthrown this time, it felt strangely bewildering to be thrust into routine again. Of course, even during the War things had worked that way. Even after a kaiju attack, you still had to eat and sleep and shower. Hermann guessed he had just never gotten used to it.

He could feel in the air that they all had things to say, but couldn't figure out how to say them. And so the silence went on for a while, until the heaviness of it dissipated and it became just another part of the background.

Hermann was comforted by the certainty of numbers, the exactitude of mathematics. He found refuge in predictable patterns and rigid laws. From time to time, however, he also had to admire the beauty in the human ability for change and adaptation.

 

The day unfurled in a manner similar to the end of their breakfast. All three of them were trying to prove that nothing was abnormal, and walking on eggshells at the same time. It didn't help that they were all cooped up in the same apartment, that there was no escaping the others' gaze. It was suffocating, but probably necessary. If they wanted to create a new dynamic from scratch, there would probably be more than one of these awkward moments.

At least there was still work Hermann could lose himself into, when he got too tired of thinking about what all of this meant. Work had always been a safe space where he was able to let his intellect roam free without closing in on itself.

Hermann didn't like thinking about himself a lot. He pretended to be confident in his own principles, but that was only playacting. He found stable things to believe in, because it was better than the incessant turmoil of uncertainty always reaching towards him. But it was all a lie, a disguise, a pretty story he told himself to feel better. Hermann had no idea who he was.

He could define himself against what he wasn't. He wasn't his father. He wasn't the victim his peers in secondary school had tried to make him. He wasn't the same man as the one who had enrolled in the PPDC and fancied himself a soldier.

But what did that tell him about who he was today, at his core? What did that tell him about who he was in and for himself, without external comparison?

Hermann didn't have a lot of certainties about himself, and so he searched for them in others. He was Vanessa's husband, his mother's son, his siblings' brother. Knowing all of that helped.

And then he was also Newton's... something. The words colleagues, rivals or friends had never adequately defined them, and now less than ever. Maybe it sufficed to say that he was Newton's, and Newton's was his. That was as good a way as any to describe the way their brain fitted themselves into each other's.

 

It was early afternoon, and Hermann realized his thoughts kept drifing away from the calculations he was supposed to be revising. He decided the only reasonable thing to do was to venture out of his office for a cup of tea, even if it involved facing the fact that other people existed outside of his safe bubble of mathematics.

In the living-room, Vanessa was frowning intermittently at her tablet and at the yarn and needles in her hands. Hermann leaned in the doorway, taking the time to look at her some more before she noticed his presence.

He had been genuinely surprised by her interest in knitting. Vanessa had never really been a crafts person. She could be good with her hands, Hermann knew. He remembered looking over some of her diagrams when they were still at university, impressed by the clarity of her work. She also enjoyed make-up, and Hermann knew that that required a lot more skill than people gave it credit for. But still, he had never imagined her knitting.

And maybe he should have. Because this had been predictable, in a sense. She was without a job, running in circles waiting for her body to do its work. She had always been like him, needing to be busy to keep her head straight, and with motherhood on her mind it was easy to see why she would pick this hobby over another. It felt too traditional to fit her personality, but Hermann knew there was comfort in tradition as well.

How Vanessa had dragged _Newton_ into the whole thing, he still couldn't quite figure out.

“Are you done staring?” Vanessa asked playfully. “Or do you need more time to laugh at my incompetence?”

Hermann grinned. “I would never. And there isn't enough time in the universe for me to get fed up of looking at you.”

Vanessa raised an eyebrow. “I feel like I should argue that there is something scientifically wrong in that sentence, just for the sake of it. But I guess if you want to butter me up I'll just have to be the better person and accept the compliment.”

“Of course. Do you want some tea?”

“That would be great.” She smiled softly at that, and Hermann wondered not for the first time how he had survived without her.

And then he stepped into the kitchen, and Newt was sitting there and glaring at something on his screen. And maybe that was part of the answer.

There was this urge in Hermann to look at what Newt was doing, to pick his brains about it and force him to think harder, to be better. There was this urge in him to clamor for Newton's attention, to be able to bask in a little bit of the scientist's weird, scattered brilliance. Hermann didn't ever want to have to admit that aloud. But Newt had to know, didn't he?

“I'm making tea,” Hermann said, startling Newt out of his important glaring. “Would you like a cup?”

“Uh?” Newton ran a hand through his hair. “Sure, I guess.”

Hermann moved past him and busied himself with putting the kettle on, taking out the teapot and filling it. He felt Newton's gaze on his back throughout.

“What is it?” Hermann turned back towards him, leaning on the countertop for support.

“I dunno. I'm just looking at you. I'm just... getting used to it, I guess.”

Hermann softened at that, dropping a little of his defensive attitude. “You need to get used to looking at me?”

Newton blushed. He blushed easily. Why had Hermann never noticed that before? Had he not seen it or had he forced himself to look away?

“Don't be an asshole. You know perfectly well what I mean.”

“I'm not so certain. I have an idea, of course, but I'm not in your head anymore.”

“Thank god!”

Hermann smiled, and poured the now boiling water into the teapot. When he turned again to retrieve some mugs, Newt's expression had become slightly somber.

“What if, though?”

Hermann frowned, not following the other's train of thought. “What if what?”

“What if we could drift again? Would you do it?”

Would he? Would he go through it again, see his sense of self dissolve under the onslaught of another person's consciousness, experience what it was like to be another person?

The drift had been a last resort solution. It had been an act of despair, executed out of fear. Hermann hadn't thought about doing it again. It hadn't seemed like an option, because the situation that had made it happen the first time was something he never wanted to experience again.

But what if?

What if he could feel that connection again? That sense of being more than he was? That taste of power?

The kaiju had been terrifying, but _he_ had been a kaiju, _he_ had been terrifying for once. He had felt what it was like to truly leave the scared little boy of his memories behind.

He had been able to understand how Newton's brain worked. He had been able to feel the way his thoughts connected, the constant waves of emotions that passed through his body. It had only lasted a few minutes, and already it had entirely changed the way Hermann conceptualized of his own methods of reflection. What would happen if they drifted again? What would happen if they could control it somehow? How much would they learn?

Oh, it was a thrilling thought. And most probably a recipe for disaster. But such a beautiful thing to imagine all the same. Maybe that was part of the appeal, that this could stay a daydream.

“I don't know,” Hermann finally answered. “Maybe I would want to if... If we could do it in better conditions. But I don't think we should. We drifted for such a short time, and it still affected us heavily. I'm not sure what would happen if we did it again.”

“Okay, yeah, but we drifted in a very specific context and with garbage equipment. I could fix some of those issues. I could tweak the levels of mental transfer so it wouldn't be as dangerous, and have a stabilizer in place like they do in the Jaegers, and...”

“Have you thought about it that much?”

Newton shrugged. Hermann knew he was only faking casualness. “Maybe a little bit. It's... I don't know. It was so _intense_ , you know? Doesn't it intrigue you? There's so much we could learn still, from a longer drift, from a more controlled one. Don't you want that?”

Hermann was scared. There was something pleading in Newton's eyes. Hermann didn't know what the other was asking for and it scared him. Did he want Hermann to agree with him, or to talk him out of it? Whatever it was, Hermann wasn't sure he could do it. He was himself much too torn between the two possibilities.

“I don't think that's a good idea. I think there are some things we're supposed to leave behind and... and the drift might be one of them.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” Newton curled in on himself. Hermann wanted to reach out. It was frightening, how powerful this urge was. To touch Newton, to comfort him. Hermann had never liked physical contact, not if it wasn't Vanessa or Karla. But now...

“I'm not sure if I can, though,” Newton whispered.

And that was enough to break down Hermann's barrier. What had been the point of their conversation that morning if he was just going to keep on hesitating, even when Newton needed him?

Hermann carefully layed a hand on his shoulder. Newton jumped at that, and looked up at him in surprise. “What happened to _Fortune favours the brave_? What happened to your certainty that you can handle whatever the world throws at you if you have enough determination and coffee?”

Newton laughed bitterly, but leaned into the touch. “That's all fake, dude. That's just pretending.”

“Fake it 'til you make it, they say.” Hermann closed his eyes. He carefully layed his cheek against on the top of Newton's head. His hair was soft, Hermann noticed. That was... nice.


	10. Chapter 10

**VANESSA**

 

“So. How are things going with Newton?”

“I'm sorry?”

Vanessa guessed she shouldn't have been surprised that Hermann was finding it awkward to talk about the other man when they were lying in their marital bed. It was the only place where they could talk privately, though, so it wasn't like Vanessa had much of a choice. She didn't really feel like bringing up this kind of subject when Hermann was accompanying her to the doctor and they were sitting in a waiting room.

“Newton. You know. Your whole relationship thing. How is it going?”

“I...”

Vanessa looked more closely at her husband's face. Was that... embarassment?

She felt a sigh rise in her chest without her control. She should have expected this, if she was honest with herself.

“You haven't talked about it more, right?”

It had been a week. A week of all of them being careful around one another like they hadn't been since Newt's first week in their apartment. A week where Vanessa had watched for any change, in her or in them. Watched for any subtle touch, any lingering look, any pang of jealousy in her heart. All she had found was frustration.

“It's not... I don't know how to...”

Vanessa shifted onto her side and reached for Hermann, settling a hand behind his neck and turning his face towards her. They stared at each other for a moment. It was a wonder, how a face could both be so familiar and a constant source of surprise.

“One of you needs to make the first move, you know. Or the second one, in your case. It's not gonna go anywhere if you just wait.”

Hermann closed his eyes for the time it took him to breathe in and out deeply. “I'm trying,” he whispered. “I'm trying, but it's just... we've been so many things to each other. Friends, confidants, enemies, rivals, colleagues. But every time, when our relationship changed, it was because of something external. We never had to... think about it, before. Now it's... it's hard to have to consciously think about what we want to become.”

Vanessa smiled, softly. She ran a hand through the hair at the back of Hermann's head. He would have to get it cut soon, she thought idly.

“I thought that finding solutions to complicated problems was your job.”

Hermann sighed. “You know that's now how it works.”

She shrugged, although she wasn't sure how well the gesture came across considering they were both lying down. “What I know is that you're both like tigers in cages. Walking in circles and going crazy with it.”

“Why are you doing this?”

Vanessa frowned, pulling away slightly out of reflex.

“What do you mean?”

It was Hermann who reached out this time, starting to rub circles with his thumb against her hip.

“I want to understand how _you_ see things. Why you're encouraging this even though... well. There isn't a way to say this that doesn't sound self-important, I guess. Even though you'll have to share me with him. I don't understand why you're encouraging us. I... You're enough for me. I hope you know that. You don't have to do this.”

Vanessa bit down on her lower lip. “I just want you to be happy,” she answered.

She could feel that Hermann had a reply at the ready, but she kept on talking before he could interrupt.

“It's not about selflessness. It's really not. You've been more centered since Newt's been here. More present. Not... it's not the same as before, but it's better. So there's that. And then it's just... I love you, you know? I love you, and I want you to be the happiest you can be. And I know you're happy with me. I know what we have is enough.”

She didn't want to say it was something she had to keep convincing herself of. She didn't want to admit that she was never certain whether Hermann felt the same way as she did. She didn't want to have to explain that there were two kinds of trust, one rational and one emotional, and that the two could battle each other. Rationally, she knew he loved her. She knew he loved the family they were building. It didn't mean she wasn't sometimes scared. But those were fears she could deal with on her own. He didn't need to know. Not when she _knew_.

“But why would you need to stop at enough? I don't want to stand in the way of what you two could have. What would I gain from that? It's not... You wouldn't love me more if you loved him less, would you?”

Hermann looked pained by the question. “I... No. I don't think so. I don't think that's how it works.”

“That's what I guessed. So really there's no point in me trying to keep you apart. There's nothing to be gained there.”

“Aren't you worried I'll love you less, though?”

Vanessa brought her hand to her husband's cheek, following the line of his lips with her thumb. “I am. I always am. But I was already worried about that before Newt came along. I was worried about that when you joined the PPDC, because I wondered if the distance would affect us. I've been worried about it for years, because people change with time, and I wasn't sure if your feelings wouldn't change as well. So yes. I'm scared. But not much more than I used to be.”

Hermann leaned into her touch, like a cat would. He looked so vulnerable, like this. There was always a stifness to his posture when he was standing, which gave a hard edge to his bearing. In bed though, he looked softer, more open. Less like unreachable marble and more like a warm, living being.

“I think I'm scared too. Newton and I, we've always been... explosive. I'm scared of what will happen if we make the stakes higher than they used to be.”

Vanessa nodded. “I think the stakes are already higher now, whether you put a word on it or not. It's not because you close your eyes that your feelings aren't still there.”

“How did I get lucky enough to have you in my life?”

Vanessa laughed. “I don't know if it's luck. I think we both just work very hard to deserve each other.”

“It still feels like it.”

“I know.”

Hermann closed his eyes then, one hand still on Vanessa's hip. She listened to his breathing as it slowly started to even out.

Inside her belly, she could feel their baby kicking. The movement and the slight pain that accompanied it were enough to keep her awake.

That, and the thousand questions that still swirled through her mind. She knew Hermann wasn't good at communication. She knew he didn't allow himself to be really in touch with his feelings. She had learned that very soon after they'd met, and she had embraced it. She could be the mediator. It wasn't something she usually chose to do, but for him she could be that person. For him she was glad to do so.

But that didn't mean it wasn't hard. That didn't mean it was healthy.

And soon they would have a child. A child who would grow up in the aftermath of a War. A child who would grow up in a world that wasn't yet ready to welcome it. A child who would grow up in a family that was only starting to find itself again.

Who would they be for this baby? What roles were they going to be forced to take? How would they manage to make all the pieces of them fit together?

Vanessa didn't want to doubt. Too many people had already done it for her. She had been called selfish, stupid, insane. Because she had wanted a child, because it had felt right in her heart. And during the War, she had been able to face those accusations. She had been able to find enough beauty in a slaughter-torn world to want to bring another being into it.

And now... Now she was feeling unbalanced. Now she was feeling lost, even though she had all she had wanted. A home, Hermann next to her, the prospect of a safe future to live in. Why did that feel scary? Had she really forgotten what it was like to live in a peaceful world? Could she claim such a thing when she had spent the whole War so far away from the conflict?

Vanessa finally closed her eyes, a hand on her belly. Maybe she wasn't ready to bring a new life in the world. But she was the readiest she would ever be. And she knew she would give her best to this child. That had to be worth something.

 

**NEWT**

 

Newt woke up rested that day. For a moment, he was incredibly confused about what was going on in his body. He hadn't felt so light in _months_.

Although his first reflex was to be suspicious, he wasn't about to waste this opporunity. He would look the gift horse in the mouth, because he was a scientist, but that didn't mean he would send the beast away.

Newt stretched, opening the curtains on the bay window. The sky was grey, but the clouds were light enough for light to filter through. Newt breathed, in and out, and took stock of himself. He wasn't feeling manic. He was energised, but his thoughts were calm, controlled. At least as much as they ever got. (Which, Newt had noticed, was more than they used to, ever since the drift.)

Well. That was nice.

There wasn't any noise coming from Hermann and Vanessa's bedroom, nor the adjacent bathroom, so Newt guessed the others were still sleeping. It had been funny to discover how much Hermann enjoyed sleeping in, considering he had been forced to live under military schedules for so long. Newt himself didn't have that much of a problem with mornings. He just had a tendency to work all night long and not have gotten enough sleep by the time the day dawned. That, too, had gotten better in the past weeks. His insomnia was still a pain in the ass, but at least now he _tried_ to go to bed at reasonable times, mostly thanks to Vanessa.

Well, it was time to repay her.

Newt went into the kitchen, rummaging around to find everything he needed. He set to work, doing his best not to make too much noise.

 

Half an hour later, Hermann and Vanessa emerged from their bedroom. That was another of the wonders of this brand new world they were in: Newt got to observe Hermann lounging around in his pajamas. Hermann always seemed softer in the morning, despite the way he kept his face scrunched up until he had decided there was enough tea in his system. His hair was still mussed up from sleep and sticking out in places, and Newt desperately wanted to reach out and smooth it back.

Newt noticed that Vanessa looked more tired than usual. It was weird, to be able to so easily read the emotions of someone he had only come to know so recently, but Newt couldn't really help it if his brain had stored so much information about her through Hermann. Right now, she looked like something was bothering her, but she was trying very hard not to let it show. Probably she thought it wasn't important enough.

Newt made a note to ask about it later, if breakfast didn't cheer her up. He thought he had good chances, though, cheerfully gesturing for the couple to sit down at the table.

“Good morning!”

Hermann eyed him carefully, and Newt just grinned in return. Hermann's expression softened at that, which made something twist and flutter inside Newt's stomach.

“I take it you slept well?” Vanessa asked, ever the diplomat between the three of them.

Newt nodded. “Surprisingly well, yeah. I made pancakes.”

That did make Vanessa perk up, and even Hermann looked slightly less scrunched up. He relaxed even more when Newt poured water into a mug and placed the tea infuser within it. Newt was scoring points all over with this idea of his, and it felt almost better than the pancakes smelled.

“Do we have maple syrup?” Hermann asked. The question had been on the tip of Newt's tongue. They both exchanged a look. Hermann had known it too.

“I think we do?” Vanessa said, ignoring the silent conversation. “Let me check.”

In the meantime, Newt brought the tower of pancakes to the center of the table, and set a plate in front of each seat. Vanessa did retrieve a half-full bottle of syrup, and when Newt had brought back two mugs of coffee, they all had a perfect breakfast waiting for them.

Newt froze for a second, considering the scene. It had been a while since he'd had pancakes. Before the War. It had been in the USA with uncle Illya, literally a lifetime ago.

Hermann caught his gaze again. Newt shook himself out of it. Now wasn't the time to think about all they'd lost. He was trying to thank two of the kindest people he knew and cheer them up. That was what he needed to focus on.

“These are amazing,” Vanessa said around a mouthful of pancake. And yes, that was what mattered. That present moment and the contact it brought. “You should have good nights more often.”

Newt laughed. “You tell me. It's not for lack of trying.”

Hermann pointed at the mug in Newt's hands. “Maybe cutting back on the caffeine would help a little.”

Both Newt and Vanessa dramatically gasped at that, grinning at each other when Hermann put his hands up in surrender.

“I'm just trying to help. I won't stand in the way of your addictions.”

“Don't you dare. We both know where you keep your tea.”

“... So don't stand in the way of mine,” Hermann amended.

 

Breakfast over, Newt was starting to settle at the kitchen table, which had become his usual work spot, when Hermann put his own laptop down on it.

“Is it okay if I join you?” Hermann asked, careful. They were still always so careful around each other. Sometimes, Newt actually missed the antagonism that had characterized their years of working together. Sure, they had said a lot of things then that were meant to hurt the other. But at least they had actually _had_ something together.

“This is your kitchen, man. Feel free.”

Hermann nodded and settled down. Newt did the same. He opened his e-mails and checked on his ongoing negotiation with TUBerlin. He hadn't yet told Hermann that he was basically certain to go work there as well, but then the physicist had never said anything more on the subject either.

This was going in circle, wasn't it?

Newt had the sudden urge to put his head down on the table and just lie there until he was certain he wouldn't have to face any of this murky relationship bullshit again. He also knew he couldn't do that considering Hermann was right there and would probably have some pointed comment to make.

 _Urgh_.

Newt wasn't good at this.

“So...” he started.

Hermann immediately looked up from his work. That had to mean _something_. If he was truly focused on a task, it became nearly impossible to tear him away from it. So probably Hermann thought this was important too.

Newt just sat there, waiting for more words to come to his brain. Why was it like this? It had never been like this. Even when they hated each other they'd been able to actually talk. And now... Now that Newt was becoming more and more convinced that he actually _liked_ Hermann, he couldn't find anything to say.

The problem was that they had been brought together because of the kaiju. They had gotten in touch with one another because of their theories, because of the War. Throughout their years of acquaintance, that had been the one truly stable thing that kept them orbiting around one another. Of course they had always found things to talk about then. They had one subject always on their lips and that occupied both of their lives to the same extent.

It was complicated to be a person again, when all Newt had been for so long was a scientist. It was complicated to talk to Hermann as if he, too, was just a person.

“I've got this idea about the genetic scanner thing that was blocking the path through the throat. What if...”

Hermann's eyes lighted up at this, at the chance of a debate, of the same kinds of intense discussions they'd had what felt like years ago. This was wrong. This wasn't who they were supposed to be forever.

This was the only option Newt could see himself taking, and he felt sick with it.

 

**HERMANN**

 

Hermann finally felt like he could stop holding his breath. This was what felt right. Discussing ideas, arguing science, losing themselves to the passion, to the importance of all of it. That is what they were meant to do, meant to be.

Moments like these were the closest way they had to getting to drift again. Hermann had never realised that before. This felt like symbiosis, like sharing one single line of thought. Although they did attempt to break down each other's theories when they argued, it was only ever so that they could be built again more strongly.

It was all the more exhilarating now that they had so much more knowledge at their disposal, now that the basic principles of each other's fields were engrained in their brains.

Their ideas worked around one another's, getting bigger and bigger, and that was _power_.

And, oh, how Hermann had been craving it.

They stopped talking for a second, both out of breath and out of words, both finding their ways through the thousand new ideas running around their brains.

Hermann found himself on the couch in the middle of the night again, staring at someone so alive it hurt. He reached out.

Newt pulled away.

Hermann's brain stopped for a second.

“Oh. Shit. No, I didn't mean to-”

“Stop.” Hermann interrupted. “You don't have to apologize. I shouldn't have assumed...”

“No, no, _you_ don't apologize.”

“Newt-”

“I didn't mean to pull away, okay? I don't want to pull away. I was just... I don't know. I don't know what I was doing. Just freaking out, I guess. I usually am, aren't I? Freaking out, I mean. About one thing or another. It's like I can't just _stop_ and enjoy anything good. No. I have to freak out about them until everything crumble. But it just... It just didn't feel right, and that's not my fault is it?”

“Newton.”

Hermann felt lost. He wasn't following anything of what Newton was saying, but he could sense that he was panicking, and that wasn't right.

So Hermann focused all of the calm and certainty he was quickly losing, and put them into his voice.

“I tried to touch you without your consent, and you were perfectly in your right to pull away. I'm assuming, however, that the _freaking out_ you're talking about is not just related to that. Can you tell me what's going on?”

The controlled voice seemed to have had its intended effect on Newton, who had stopped babbling.

“It doesn't feel right. To be like this.”

Hermann felt his blood run cold. Of course. They had all felt it, that awkwardness in the air. Hermann had been too careful, too uncertain, he hadn't done enough to dissipate it. And now everything was slipping through his fingers again. He was going to lose Newton again, just as they had lost each other, that first time they had met in person. Hermann didn't want to go back to the silence and the cold that had defined that period of time.

But what he wanted didn't matter when what _Newt_ wanted was also on the line.

“Okay,” Hermann said. It wasn't okay. _He_ wasn't okay. But what else could he have said?

Newton looked pained. “Wait, no. I don't mean it like... It's not about us as in... It's not about us, it's just...” He stopped, raising his hand so that Hermann knew not to interrupt. He wouldn't have known what to say anyway.

“It's us talking like this that doesn't feel right. I'm not sure how to explain it's just...” Newt shuddered.

Hermann truly didn't know what to think. He hadn't felt as comfortable as he had felt just now in quite a while. This was exactly what he had wanted. But apparently it wasn't so for Newt.

“Don't you think we should have moved past this? Don't you think there should be something more to our lives now?”

“Move past this? What do you mean?”

“Past the kaiju. Past the War. Past the people we were during it.”

“You want to move past the kaiju? _You_?”

Newton flinched. Hermann supposed he _had_ been quite aggressive, but couldn't really feel guilty about it either. What Newton was saying was entirely out of character, and it didn't make any _sense_.

“What happened to investigating the possibility of a connection through the closed Breach? What happened to looking into the composition of the Anteverse? What happened to the kaiju being the most scientifically interesting thing that happened in this century?”

“Nothing happened! Nothing happened, Hermann. I'm just... scared. Maybe I'm just second-guessing myself. I've dedicated my whole freaking life to research, I don't know how to be anything else than a scientist, but then I see you and Vanessa and your life, and I think that that's what I'm missing out on. I don't have a life of my own. I don't have anything without the kaiju. And if I think like that then I start thinking about how my life doesn't mean anything with them gone, and then there's a part of me that starts wanting them to come back and that's _awful_. I told you about the drift. I told you about wanting to drift again. But it's not just with _you_ Hermann. There's this quiet in my brain most days that terrifies me, and then I think of the Hivemind and it just... Somedays it feels like a good idea to fill the silence. And I actually felt like I was doing better today, I was doing good, but then we started talking just like we did when we were in the PPDC and that's... We can't be the people we used to be anymore, Hermann. If we do, it's gonna kill us.”

Hermann stared. Newton was scared. Newton, who had stared into a kaiju's eyes, Newton who had drifted with a piece of alien brain _alone_ , Newton Geiszler of the six PhDs and the endless bravado had just admitted aloud that he was scared.

And that he couldn't go back to being the person Hermann felt like he desperately needed in his life.

“What? How are we supposed to do that?” Hermann asked. “The people we used to be... that's all we have. That's all the certainty we have about ourselves anymore, isn't it? With the drift...”

“You can't say that!” Newton shrieked. “How can you say that's all you have? Vanessa is literally in the next room. You have a future all laid out in front of yourself. Isn't that enough certainty?”

“There's nothing certain about the future, Newton. Especially a future that feels like it's happening to someone other than me.”

“Fuck that. Aren't you even gonna try?”

“Try what?”

“To learn from all this shit! To let yourself become someone else, because that's how the world works! We evolve, we change! Isn't that what the whole thing between us is supposed to be about?”

“I don't know what _the thing between us_ is about, Newt!” Hermann admitted. “I have no idea! All I know is that you decided to kiss me and for some reason I wanted to kiss you back and then we managed to talk around the subject for a week without doing anything!”

“You... you were the one acting like you knew what you were doing. Like you knew what you wanted. I told you I don't know shit about that kind of things, I just thought you needed time!”

“I don't know what I need, Newton. Since apparently you hadn't noticed, I'll just say it plainly. I was trying to figure it out, but apparently what _I_ need and what _you_ do are two totally different things, so maybe all of this was only ever meant to be a pipe dream anyway.”

Hermann didn't really want to say that. He didn't actually want to hurt Newton. It was just so easy, though, to reach for the proverbial jugular and cut. Hermann felt threatened, and so he lashed out with words. That was how he'd always worked.

“Don't say it like that,” Newton said. He sounded choked. Was he... Was he crying? Hermann hoped not. How was he supposed to react to _that_? “Don't say that when we haven't even tried.”

“Tried _what_ , Newton?” Hermann sounded pleading even to his own ears. That was okay. After the rollercoaster of emotion that this morning had been – the good night, the nice breakfast, and then all of this mess – he wasn't above begging anymore. Not if it would finally get them somewhere.

“Tried to be better people.” Newton caught Hermann's gaze from across the table. There _were_ tears welling up in the green eyes, and Hermann felt his lungs clog up. Newt was hurting, and that was the opposite of what Hermann wanted. He had wanted them to feel at ease again, to have their camaraderie back. Not this. “Tried to be good to each other.”

Was that really what Newton thought? That they _weren't_ good to each other? Hermann guessed... He guessed that made sense, in a way. They always fought. They always pushed each other to their extreme. But they cared, too. Even when they'd pretended to hate each other, they had always cared. In small ways, but in ways that mattered.

“You're good to me,” Hermann managed to say through whatever had suddenly lodged itself in his throat. “You're good for me. I know that.”

Newton reached out with one hand. Hermann's immediate reactions were a confusing mess. He wanted Newt to touch him and he wanted to push him away.

“Fuck. Can I?”

Hermann didn't know what Newton was asking, but he had trusted him with his own brain, so he might as well trust him with this. He nodded.

Newton stood up and walked around the table, and then there was a hand on one of his cheeks and Hermann didn't know how it was possible that such a simple touch made him want to relax. Not when it was _Newton's_.

“I don't know how we made such a mess of this conversation,” Newton started. He laughed then, self-depricating. “Actually, it's not so hard to understand considering our track records. We messed up pretty bad on our first meeting, I guess this is in-character.” Newton dropped his hand, but kept it on Hermann's shoulder. “What I mean is, this wasn't supposed to be a fight. But I guess that's how we work. I didn't want to freak out earlier. It was just... It was easy, to get lost in the science. It felt _good_. But if we go back to that... If we keep our relationship based on the same things as during the War, I feel like we'll never move forward. I don't want our relationship to be the same as it used to be. I guess I didn't really want to admit it to myself, but I did kiss you so...”

He took a deep breath. Hermann was hanging onto his every word. They had switched roles somehow, without him noticing. Newton had become the one pretending to be collected, whereas he was barely making an effort hiding how lost he felt.

“I want more from this. From you. If you'll give it to me. And that means... That means I can't get lost in the comfort of how things used to be. Because as scary as it is to strive for something different... at least there's a possibility there. A possibility of something else, of something better.”

“This is all rather abstract, you know,” Hermann croaked out, voice low and hoarse.

Newton managed a half-smile. “I know. I'm shit at this. But hey. You gotta make do with what you have. I just wanted to make sure you know...”

Hermann watched, transfixed, as Newt gathered his words. Maybe there was some truth to what the biologist had said, about being different people. He definitely seemed far from the prickly tornado of a scientist that constantly kept his snarky defenses up. He wasn't hiding right now, letting himself be vulnerable. And that was for Hermann's sake.

“You know that I don't want you for who you used to be. That I want you now. For the future, not for the past.”

Newton had turned a deep shade of red. From the burning sensation on his cheeks, Hermann could guess that he was following not far behind.

 _Want_. Newton had said. That was what they'd been avoiding talking about all week. Want. That was the word that Hermann hadn't dared use, because it still felt like too much of a betrayal, despite everything Vanessa had said. But it was in the air now. Floating between them. Hermann could keep on ignoring it if he wanted to, but it wouldn't make the sentiment disappear.

He had a choice to make, then and there. Return it or don't. He couldn't bear the thought of keeping on ignoring the way his heart pounded. So it wasn't really a choice at all.

Hermann didn't have much of a way with words, just like Newton. So instead of trying to say anything, he brought his hand to the back of Newton's neck. He seemed to immediately understand what Hermann was trying to do, leaning forward.

Hermann pressed their lips together. He was slow about it, careful. He didn't want any misunderstanding to remain about the intent behind the gesture. This wasn't something born of sleep-deprivation or instinct. This was deliberate. It was a commitment.

Newton responded to the kiss in kind, melting against him and opening his mouth. Hermann was surprised at how different this felt from kissing Vanessa. There was something thrilling about the newness of it. The fact that you didn't yet know what your partner liked or how they would react. It was an investigation into something unknown and enticing, and that had always been the kind of things Hermann lived for.

They took their time to explore each other. When they finally broke away, they both had a smile on their faces. The sweetness of that feeling was enough to forget the bitterness of all they'd said to each other. At least for a moment. And that moment was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Editing this physically pained me so I hope the schmoopy ending is apology enough for all the pain in this chapter


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More awkward conversations! Because by now you should know this is what this fic is about!
> 
> Also, if you feel stressed out by the fact there's only one chapter left: me too.

**NEWT**

 

“Karla!” Newt cheerfully exclaimed as he opened the door. He then mentally kicked himself, because the woman was staring at hims with confusion written all over her face. Obviously. Because they'd never met, and Newt had somehow forgotten that fact _again_.

He had gotten quite good at ignoring the more obviously negative effects of the drift – the urges that weren't his own, the thoughts that conflicted with his beliefs – but shit like this still caught him by surprise.

“Sorry. I'm Newt,” he said, trying to salvage the situation. “It's nice to meet you finally. I've heard a lot about you from Hermann.”

“Have you?” Karla asked, relaxing into a smile.

“Only nice things. Possibly some embarrassing childhood stories.”

She laughed. “Of course. Well, if you ever need me to provide some more for blackmail purposes...”

Newton grinned. “Oh, I _like_ you.”

“Could you maybe let her come inside, now that you're both done being nefarious?” Hermann called from the living-room.

“Only you would use the word nefarious in a regular sentence,” Karla replied, stepping inside. She hugged Hermann and Vanessa in turn, obviously tender in her gestures.

Newt took a second to observe her more closely. It was strange comparing the real person to the one he knew from Hermann's memories. That was the thing about the drift – you never noticed how much the information you got was tainted by the person interpreting them. Hermann's vision of Karla was mostly focused on the differences between them. It was true that the woman had a rounder face, and her bright red hair definitely contrasted with Hermann's duller one. But Hermann's memories failed to emphasize the ways in which they looked alike. They had the same eyes, and the same way of holding their head straight whenever they were talking to someone.

“Come on, let's sit down,” Karla urged Vanessa. “You shouldn't keep standing up with so much baby weight in you.”

Vanessa rolled her eyes. “Not you too! I'm pregnant, not dying, you know. There's no need to constantly worry about me. I'm harder than that to get rid of.”

“She'll outlive all of us,” Hermann said with a tone half-joking and half full of awe.

“Damn right I will.”

Newt joined the family in the living room. Vanessa had sat down in one of the armchairs, and Karla was sitting next to Hermann on the couch.

Newt hesitated. He felt like an intruder, suddenly, on the edge of the circle of furniture. He wasn't part of the blood and shared history that united all of these people.

But then Hermann looked up, and discreetly spread a hand over the space leftover on the sofa. And so Newt sat himself down on his other side. Vanessa was smiling to him as well. It made him feel stupid. He knew he was welcome here. After all these weeks, of course he knew. But his first reaction was still to second-guess himself. Would that ever stop? Would he ever move past the idea that it was too good to be true, that he didn't deserve it, that it _had_ to be a lie?

Time would tell, he guessed. And if he wanted to have enough time to find out, he would have to keep focusing on not fucking this up for himself.

They talked about Vanessa's state of health for a while longer. Considering how close Vanessa was to the expected date, it wasn't surprising. The way her belly jutted out immediately drew attention, and it was an easy conversation starter.

“So, Newt right?” Karla said after a while, sitting on the edge of the couch so she could turn towards him.

“Yup.”

“You said you'd heard a lot about me, but I'm sorry I can't say the same...”

Hermann let out a short laugh. “Oh, you have. This is Dr. Geiszler.”

Karla's eyes widened comically. Newt wasn't sure what that was supposed to mean.

“Oh my god. Seriously?” She asked Hermann.

Newt wasn't feeling awkward. Not at all. What the fuck had Hermann told his sister about him, if that was her reaction?

Maybe sensing some of his discomfort, Karla immediately apologized. “Sorry. I don't want to be rude. It's just that Hermann hadn't told me you still kept in touch. Or that you'd patched things up.”

Newt frowned. He tried to glean something of what was going on from Hermann, but the man was a blank wall. It figured that their weird ghost-drift thing only worked when he didn't actually want to use it.

“Newt lives here,” Vanessa said, amused.

That woman was a saviour. Newt needed to remind himself to tell her so every day. Newt had been hesitating between stating the truth or pretending that he was just visiting the Gottlieb family. After all, it was weird that Karla didn't know he was here. She was the sibling Hermann was the closest to. And maybe that meant Hermann didn't want his family to know. Maybe he was embarrassed, or scared of their reaction. Newt didn't like the thought, but he also didn't want to say anything if it would make Hermann uncomfortable. By making the situation clear herself, Vanessa had just saved him from a hellish dilemna.

“What?”

Newt tried to smile and act natural. “It's a long story. I was in kind of a bad situation, after the PPDC closed. Or, well, I guess the organisation itself still hasn't officially closed, but they did shut down the research departments. Anyway. I didn't really have anywhere to go. My family's from Germany originally, but I lived abroad for a long time, so I don't have a lot of connections here anymore. Hermann and Vanessa agreed to let me stay with them for a while.”

Or forever. They needed to talk about that more openly at some point. Newt didn't really have a problem with sleeping on the couch, and he really liked the bay windows, but it was becoming awkward to live off the few things he'd brought in his suitcase. He could still try to get himself his own place. That wasn't a problem, especially now that he had a spot scured at TUB. He just didn't really want to.

“That's... Sorry, I don't know what to say. It's kind of unexpected.”

“Karla...” Hermann started. There was a warning in his voice, as if his secret sibling senses were tingling.

Obviously, Karla was used to ignoring any and all warnings from her brother.

“The last I heard about you, you and Hermann were pretending to hate each other's guts for science.”

Newt was glad Hermann and Vanessa had forgotten to be good hosts and serve tea. He would most definitely have spit it out if he had had any in his mouth right then.

“For science?” He managed to croak out.

Karla shrugged. “Obviously Hermann never phrased it that way, but that's what I gathered.”

Now that his surprise had calmed down, Newt was able to focus on Hermann's reaction to his sister's words. His cheeks were the most adorable shade of red.

“How come?” Newt asked. Hermann shot him a betrayed look, which just made Newt grin.

“Well, he was saying all this stuff about how he couldn't stand you and your unsafe lab practices or whatever. And he would go on and on about how you always argued, but then he would admit that some of your comments had actually helped in, and then get embarrassed, and then go on about how he hated you some more. Also he used to tell me about the e-mails you wrote to each other, so I knew that you guys didn't _really_ hate each other. But the arguments seemed to help. Hence the _pretending to hate each other for science_.”

“That's... surprisingly accurate,” Newt admitted, confused by the realisation. “I don't know how to feel about that.”

Karla laughed. “I'm just glad you guys sorted things out. Getting this one to admit that he feels anything but resentment and academic interest is like trying to saw a log with a pocket knife.” She elbowed Hermann in the ribs as she made that comment, which forced him to let out a totally undignified yelp, which in turn made Newt feel more alive than he had in a long time.

Oh, he really did like Karla, he decided. He liked her a lot.

 

**HERMANN**

 

Vanessa and Newton were laughing at him. He knew it and resented it, but if he protested and called attention to the fact, it would only get worse.

Siblings were the worst.

Obviously he was used to Karla and Vanessa teaming up to tease him. He had been dealing with that for years, he knew how to handle them. He had, however, failed to calculate how Newton would fit in the equation. A grave mistake, one made worse by the fact that the outcomes had been so obvious. Of course Karla and Newton had gotten on like a house on fire. Both of them existed for the sole purpose of making him feel ridiculous and inadequate.

“Don't frown like that,” Vanessa said after they had seen Karla out. She kissed him on the nose, adding insult to injury. If Hermann only scrunched up his face more, it was on entirely different grounds than just petty retaliation. “I think she had fun.”

“Obviously,” Hermann replied.

Newt started laughing. “I can't believe how adorable you're acting right now. I love your sister.”

“Obviously,” Hermann said again, although he was struggling to keep his tone as cold as he wanted.

Vanessa laid an arm on his back and her head against his shoulder. “ _I_ had fun, at least. It's always nice to see Karla.”

“It is,” Hermann admitted. They always bickered, but that was what siblings were there for. The pointless fights were a reminder that, if something _really_ mattered, they would protect each other.

He needed to see his brothers, Hermann realized. They kept in touch through e-mails, but that wasn't enough. Hermann had been the one to leave, he needed to make sure they knew he had never meant to leave them behind.

He needed to see his mother, too, at some point. He would see his father if he had to. Despite the fact that just thinking about it upset his stomach, he would do it. He could do it.

Well. He would send Karla a message. Talk it all through with her.

Before that though...

“I'm sorry, Newton.”

The other looked surprised to hear the word, which sent a pang of guilt to Hermann's chest. Did he usually act so coldly that any word of apology from his part was unexpected?

“What?”

Or had Newton not understood that Hermann needed to apologize in the first place?

“Earlier with Karla. I'm sorry I didn't tell her about you. I'm sorry I didn't say anything. We... We hadn't talked about it, and I didn't want to make things even more awkward by saying anything you would be uncomfortable with.”

“Oh. Yeah. We should probably agree on something to tell people if they ask, right?”

“I feel like this is a conversation we should have sitting down,” Vanessa interjected. She didn't need to point at her belly as she said so. Hermann and Newton both knew how tired she was these days. It filled Hermann with both anxiety and impatience.

They all settled in the living room again.

“Okay,” Vanessa started. Hermann was grateful she was there to guide them through the conversation. He knew it wasn't easy for her either, but out of the three of them she was the least likely to just ignore any difficult talk she needed to have until the problem went away. “I'll say my part first if that's okay with you.”

“Sure,” Newton replied. Hermann nodded.

“I don't mind it if you want to tell people about your relationship. I know some people will probably have bullshit opinions about it all, and they'll either pity me or call me a whore, but I don't care.”

Hermann hadn't thought about that, he realized. He'd been so precoccupied with what _he_ thought, what _Newton_ thought and what _Vanessa_ thought, he hadn't even considered other reactions. He hadn't considered how outsiders would interpret the situation. Would he be called a cheater? A bad husband? A bad _father_? Was he ready for that?

“What other people think is their own problem. They have no say in how I build my own family. So I don't mind either way. If you make a decision, don't do it on my account.”

“You know we don't deserve you, right?” Newton said. Hermann wholly agreed with the sentiment.

Vanessa shrugged. “I find that what happens in your life often has nothing to do with deserving, and everything with whatever the universe has arbitrarily decided to throw in your face that day.” Her expression turned to a mischievous grin. “Which doesn't mean you shouldn't remind me of how awesome I am every day, and do your best to be worthy of my presence.”

Newton raised his hands in surrender. “Duly noted.”

Vanessa hummed her approval.

“So,” Hermann started. “What do we want to do?”

It wasn't fair of him, he knew, to phrase it like that. He was avoiding having to ask the question to himself. Hermann wasn't Newton. He had never pretended to be brave.

Newton was fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “I don't think there's a simple answer. There's no math we can do to calculate the best outcome,” he awkwardly joked. “Any solution is gonna get messy.” He took a deep breath. “I don't really want to hide, I guess. I mean, I barely know _what_ we would be hiding, it's still all so weird and new but... I don't want to have to lie to people. I don't like it. At the same time, you have your family to think about. I'm used to people thinking I'm weird. I'm used to people judging me all the time because I don't fit their standards. But it doesn't mean that _you_ have to deal with it. And it's not just you it's...” He hesitated for a second. “I mean... This is awkward. I don't want to make any projections for the long-term. That's actually another thing we need to talk about, probably. But what I meant is that it's also not just about you. You're gonna have a child. We need to think about that as well. It sucks that it has to be like that, but if people start throwing shit in your face, well... it might fall back down on her. And I don't want that. I appreciate that you're willing to take the risks for yourself, but we can't impose that on a baby.”

Hermann felt selfish. He felt impossibly selfish that none of this had even been on his mind, scared as he was of his own feelings.

It wasn't the time for him to lament on that, however. That wouldn't make anything better. He could only be thankful that he had Vanessa and Newton with him to make him see the important things. He could only be thankful, and move forward, and try to do better.

“I'm used enough to people staring,” Hermann said. He didn't have Newton's loud personality, and had learned the art of fading into the background, for the most part. But it wasn't a foolproof technique. Hermann, too, had been _the weird kid_. The smartypants, the nerd, the one people bullied. The too-quiet one. The cripple. He'd faced his share of name-calling.

And he wasn't looking forward to another round of that, far from that. But at least, this time, he had some kind of control over the reason behind it all. If any of it did happen, Hermann would be comforted by the fact that it was because of something he'd chosen, something he had deemed worth it.

“I don't mind that. There's family to think about. I'm not sure how they'll react, but I already don't speak to my father anymore, what's one or two more family members?”

He knew he'd done a bad job of hiding his bitterness, could see it in the concerned gaze that Vanessa threw his way.

“As for the baby... Well. They say it takes a village to bring up a child. If you don't have a village, I guess three people is better than two.” He felt himself blushing, unsure if it was because of the weight of Newton's eyes by his side or just the thought of what he'd just said. “In any case, a baby doesn't ask questions. If it comes to that, we have a few years to figure out how we want things to go before the awkward conversations start.”

He was definitely causing his own blushing, there. _Years_. He was talking about _years_. He was talking about spending years with both Vanessa and Newton. He was talking about years of nurturing the tentative equilibrium they'd found.

“You mean the awkward conversations that will pile up on top of the ones we're already having, right?” Newton jokingly asked.

Vanessa groaned, letting her head flop back dramatically on the back of her armchair. “Oh my god. What are we getting ourselves into?”

“Something scary and unknown and exciting?” Newton replied, hopefully.

Hermann felt a tug at his lips. It did feel like all of those things at the same time. He hoped the scales would balance towards _exciting_ with time.

“Something like that, yeah,” Vanessa said, looking up. “Also, while we're already in the middle of one of our awkward conversations... I think I'm good on the physical intimacy front.” She seemed to feel Hermann's confusion. “I mean, you two being intimate together. I think I'm fine with the idea. I haven't felt... I don't think I really feel jealous? So you don't have to... be discreet about it.”

Hermann and Newton exchanged a silent stare.

“... If you were doing that.”

Hermann felt himself flush in embarrassment again. This was a habit that was getting out of hand much too quickly.

It wasn't a bad thing, was it, that they were taking things slowly? It seemed rather expected, considering all they'd been through, or the fact that Hermann had only ever dated Vanessa and Newt had never seriously dated _anyone_.

It wasn't something he ever mentioned, and probably a sore point for him, but Hermann couldn't help but know it from the drift. And he understood. Newt had started university at 14. Even when he'd reached legal age, most of his friends had been at least four years older than him, and remembered him from when he was really a child. And then he had gotten his first doctorate and his first teaching assistant job, and dating anyone his age had been thrown out of the window due to his position of authority. And then he had gotten lost in research, in the comfort of his own fucked-up habits. And _then_ there had been the kaiju.

Newt had the excuses, if he needed them. Hermann didn't care either way. It was nothing to be ashamed about, even if he knew accepting it wasn't as easy as that.

“Okay, I feel like this is enough awkwardness for one day!” Newt declared loudly. “Now I'm gonna run away to the shower and wash it all off. No offense to your sister, Hermann, it was really nice to meet her. Okaybye.”

Vanessa and Hermann looked at each other in the silence that followed. Vanessa shrugged. “Well, it wasn't a _total_ disaster.”

 

**VANESSA**

 

“Weather's been nice here,” Vanessa told her mother. “Cold still, but it's been dry for the most part.”

“Are you taunting me on purpose?” The older woman joked, keeping up the act of the proper British person always complaining about the rain.

“Maybe. I mean, you could visit. When the baby gets here.”

There. She'd said it. This had been the whole point of the phone call, and after 15 minutes of aimless small-talk, she had finally asked.

She hoped her mother would understand what she meant by it. Inviting her here was a subtle way to indicate that she was planning on building a life for herself in Germany.

She didn't think it would come as a surprise. Most of the people around her knew that she didn't actually want to settle in the UK, much to Hermann's despair sometimes. They had always known Vanessa would be the one who got away for her family.

But she knew they had gotten used to her being close, when she had gone back during the War. She knew it had been good for them, to have her in their life. She knew that, even if they had expected it, they would be disappointed to have her leave again, leave for good.

She didn't want to say that she wasn't coming back. That's why it was easier to just invite them here.

“Of course!” Her mother replied. “Of course I want to see your baby!”

Vanessa felt relieved. It had been stupid to even be scared, to think she wouldn't want to come. But that was how the human brained worked. If something could go wrong, it assumed it would, keeping you prepared for the worst.

Or at least, for the worst you could imagine. Which she guessed, in a lot of cases, was far away from the _actual_ worst that could happen.

Giant monsters coming out of the ocean really had the ability to put things into perspective.

But even if she'd had no reason to be scared, Vanessa did feel relief. As much as she liked her independence, her freedom and her space, as much as she was happy with her decision to move, there were some moments when she craved a motherly presence. There were some anxieties she didn't feel comfortable talking about with anyone else.

Pregnancy was a whole new territory for her. Not for her mom. _Child-rearing_ was a whole new territory. Not for her mom. Of course, she was always a phone call away. But Vanessa would feel safer if she knew that her child, barely born, would have a chance to be held by arms that knew what they were doing.

“Have Hermann tell me as soon as you go into labour. I'll be on the first plane there.”

“But...”

“Don't start worrying about the money,” Vanessa's mom interrupted. “I don't care about the money. I care about the fact that my baby girl is having a baby of her own, and that's all. Do you already have a name in mind?”

“Yeah, we do.”

“German or English?”

“Mom!”

“Or something else. I guess your dad would be happy if you picked a Nigerian one, but I don't think Hermann is the type.”

“ _Mom._ ”

“Fine, fine! I was just asking.”

“We'll go for something that sounds good in both German and English.”

It wasn't something she'd actually considered when picking the name Victoria, but it seemed an important factor considering the linguistic mess that was their household at the best of times. Vanessa didn't speak German as well as Newton and Hermann spoke English, but she could and did use it in her daily life outside of their flat. Newton understood German perfectly, but prefered to use English since he'd been living in the States for so long. And Hermann didn't want to admit that he preferred talking in German, so he usually spoke in English, but then he switched if someone from his family was around.

She guessed any child of theirs would have to be raised bilingual if they wanted to survive.

“You should bringing your child here for holidays from time to time. Stay in touch with both sides of the family.”

Vanessa didn't know if she wanted to smile or roll her eyes. She did both, just to be on the safe side. It was so in character for her mom to acknowledge the fact that Vanessa had moved away at the same time as she made silly demands.

“We're talking about a baby, mom. It won't be able to stay in touch with anything for at least a few years. Not even itself.”

“Well, _you_ should stay in touch with both sides of the family.”

Ah. There it was. “I will. Of course I will.”

There was silence for a few seconds as both of them tried to think of what to say next.

Vanessa took a deep breath.

“Mom? There's something I need to talk to you about.”

She felt like the panic slowly filling up her lungs was perfectly justified this time.

“Of course. I'm listening.”

She said it with such a soft voice that Vanessa guessed some of her fear had transpired in her voice. She would have to be careful with her words. If her mom felt like she was in any kind of distress, she risked jumping to entirely wrong conclusions.

“Okay. You need to give me time to explain without interrupting. I know it sounds bad when I say it like that, but everything's fine. I need you not to interrupt so I can explain fully _why_ everything is fine and you totally don't need to worry.”

“I think you'd better start explaining, dear. Because this is not helping me not to worry.”

Vanessa laughed. If her mom kept on making jokes, it would all be fine.

“Okay. So. You know Hermann doesn't talk to a lot of people about how it was in the Shatterdomes.”

“You know I love your husband, Vanessa, but he doesn't talk much _at all_.”

“Mom. I said no interrupting.”

“Fine, fine! Get on with it.”

“Things happened. At the end. Bad things. Well, obviously bad things happened, but what I mean is...” She took a breath again. It was strange to be talking about this with her mother, when she had difficulties talking about it with Hermann in the first place. “Hermann was invloved in much more of a hands-on manner than he should have been. And the stuff he was involved in... I have no idea if I can talk about it because I don't think they released much information to the public. But it was pretty... well... traumatising.”

“Oh.”

Vanessa winced. She didn't know if putting a word on it made it sound worse or trivial.

“He's doing better now. I think he's doing better now. But it was bad, for a while. And there... There was this other person with him. Through the last days, but I guess through the rest of it as well. They were in touch for a long while before, and then they worked together in the same lab for several years. Anyway. The things that happened on Pitfall Day, they went through that together. And so... they kind of needed each other. Afterwards. To deal with what happened to them.”

Vanessa felt like something was lodged in her throat. She hated it. She had no right to that fear. It wasn't about her at all. She had no right to feel in pain for such inconsequential things when she was talking about PTSD and possible brain damage.

Apparently she was lost in those thoughts for slightly too long.

“I'm sorry dear, I know you said no interrupting. But what exactly does this all have to do with you?”

Better get it over with. Pull the band-aid with all the force she can muster.

“This person – Newt. His name is Newt. He's living with us right now. He might be staying with us for a while. Forever. I don't know. He and Hermann are... involved.”

A beat of silence, during which she let her thoughts spiral out of control. Would her mother cry? Get angry? Would she just say nothing? Would she stop talking to her, this weak-minded daughter who couldn't stand up for what was rightfully hers?

“Involved as in...”

She could do this. She had to get through this.

“As in romantically involved. As in Hermann and Newt are dating, or kind of dating, I don't know if they would call it that. But Hermann is still with me. He's still faithful to me. He's not cheating on me or anything. I was aware of it the whole time, I... I guess I was kind of the one who suggested it in the first place. They're just really good for each other.”

“... Are they good for you, though?”

“I... What?”

“Are they good for you? Are you really okay with this whole situation? Is it good for you as well or are you just doing what's best for Hermann and sacrificing your own needs in the process?”

That wasn't what she had expected her mother to worry about.

“Thank you,” she couldn't help but blurt out, even if it didn't make any sense. She had tears in her eyes now. Newt and Hermann talked about how they didn't deserve her, and she knew that wasn't true. She knew that wasn't how it worked between people. Still, when it came to her mother in that specific instant, she couldn't help but feel the same way about her.

“That doesn't answer my question, Vanessa.”

“I know. I know. It's just... I wasn't expecting you to be... this open about it, I guess. And I don't mean to say I think you're close-minded or whatever. It's just... It's a weird situation. I would understand if you thought it was weird.”

“I won't lie to you. I don't wholly understand this. I don't understand a lot of it. But you're an adult, and a rational one at that. So I'm willing to listen. I won't judge you for who you choose to be, Vanessa. The only thing that would achieve would be to push us away from each other. I love you too much for that.”

Vanessa was crying in earnest now.

It just went to prove that tears didn't only stem from sadness. She felt happy right now. She felt so _lucky_. So many people didn't get to have what she had. A mother, one who was motherly in all the most positive senses of the term. One who cared and showed it, who listened and accepted. One who was there for her no matter what, no matter how many times Vanessa left her behind.

“I love you mom,” she said, trying to hide her sobs even though she knew it was probably pointless.

“I know. Now answer the question.”

“Of course.” She sniffled. “I'm good. This is... it's been good. I wasn't sure, at the start. It's not that it actually felt wrong it just... It felt wrong for it not to feel wrong. But Newt is nice. He's nice, and sweet, and funny. It's easy to live with him. That helps. But it was... It was really hard to see Hermann struggle and not be able to help. He used to get so lost. Lost in thoughts, I guess, but I could tell it wasn't really _his_ thoughts. He was... he was almost scaring me sometimes. And it's so much better now. And I just... He loves me, you know? I guess it might be naïve, to say it like that. There are so many people who are convinced of other people's love and are left with a broken heart. But I really feel like it's true. I trust him. And I think I trust Newt too.”

“Okay. If you trust them, and you're happy, then I guess I'm okay with it. I don't really understand. I don't think... I couldn't do that, with your dad. But if you think it's good enough for you...”

“It's not good enough. I think it's just _good_. For them and for me both. I was alone for so long, you know? When he wasn't there. I don't want him to ever feel that way. It's nice to know he has somebody else he can rely on. It's less pressure. And I think that helps us all.”

“Okay.”

“Thank you, mom.”

“You don't have anything to thank me for. I'm just doing my job.”

“Thank you anyway.”

Vanessa's mother sighed.

“Then you're welcome, I guess. Now go dry those tears I heard. Your skin is gonna feel all cakey.”

Vanessa laughed, helplessly, even if it sounded strangled.

“Okay. I love you.”

“I love you too, dear. Never doubt that.”


	12. Chapter 12

VANESSA

 

“We need to go to the hospital,” Vanessa said. She was trying not to sound panicked but it hurt. Fuck. It hurt so bad.

Newt just stared at her, uncomprehending. She wanted to scream. But if she started, she might not be able to stop.

Finally, he seemed to notice the way she was holding her belly, understanding dawning on him.

“Oh. Oh, fuck. Shit.”

“Yeah,” she said breathlessly. “I echo the sentiment.”

“Shit, shit, we need to call Hermann-”

“No time. He's in his meeting anyway, he won't answer. We need to go.”

Newt looked utterly freaked out. For some reason, that made Vanessa feel calmer herself. They needed to hold it together. She was prepared for this. She had been waiting for this. It was fine.

Of course it wasn't fine, because she was in awful pain and there was a baby trying to come out of her. But hey. That's how humanity had survived for so long, so chances were she was going to survive too, right?

Well, deaths in childbirth did occur, of course, especially with the kaiju blue infections that were so frequent these days, but they were far away from the coast, and statistics were still mostly on her side so... it was all going to be okay, right?

Fuck.

Vanessa took a deep breath.

“Okay, Newt. I need you to keep it together and get me to the hospital. There will be plenty of time for the both of us to freak out after we get there. And we'll call Hermann there, have him come as soon as he can. It will all be okay.”

“Okay. Yeah. Okay. Of course. I'll... Let me grab a jacket. Can you get the car keys?”

She did, and forced herself not to think about when was the last time Newt had driven a car. Some thoughts were so bad they amounted to tempting fate, and that wouldn't do at all in this situation. Fate didn't need any damn help.

Vanessa felt like swearing. She was pretty certain this was the best situation to swear in because, once again, the pain. Also, because she soon would have to be careful about not infecting a toddler's ears with bad words. Better have her fill while she could.

 

They both got into her car. Newt's hands were shaking, and Vanessa didn't want to look at hers because they probably were as well. Instead, she focused on the road ahead of her and on breathing. In and out. Regularly. She was going to be okay.

It was pretty awful how something you usually did so easily and without needing to think about it became nearly impossible when your brain was trying to convince you you were dying of getting turned inside out by a tiny human.

Apparently, labour brought up the most vivid sides of her imagination. How delightful.

“It's gonna be fine, Vanessa,” Newt started babbling. “It's gonna be totally fine and soon you'll be holding a baby in your arms and it will be the most beautiful thing to happen in your life and it will all have been worth it. I mean, hopefully. It's okay if it's not the most beautiful moment of your life. I wasn't trying to put pressure on you or anything, I guess everyone experiences childbirth and motherhood in a different way, and it's okay to have conflicted feelings, I'm sure you and Hermann will figure it out and that your baby will be beautiful and smart and-”

“Just drive, okay Newt? Just. Fucking. Drive.”

“Okay.”

 

She couldn't say if it really was the most beautiful moment of her life or not. It was certainly... something. She guessed a lot of the foggy happiness she felt was due to the sheer contrast between hours of pain and effort and the calm that had settled over her as soon as the nurse had given her the baby to hold.

Hermann and Newt were both silent, looking at them both. She was grateful that they understood the importance of this moment for her, the first contact with the thing that had been growing in her for so long.

Not just the thing, anymore. The little girl.

The precious little girl covered in freshly-washed skin that was crying against her chest, overwhelmed by the strange new world she'd been thrown in.

Vanessa finally managed to detach her eyes from her and look at the two men in the room, smiling helplessly. She didn't know what to say. What could you say in a situation like this?

“She's beautiful,” was Newt's answer to that. A fairly conventional one, but it fit the moment.

“It's crazy how you always think all babies look the same and kind of ugly until you actually get attached to one, and then you realize how right everyone was and that they're the most beautiful thing in the world. I mean, I think it's crazy. It's a baby.”

Vanessa couldn't help but laugh at the utterly serious and amazed tone with which Newt had made that last statement. It was true. It was very true that she was holding a baby in her arms. And it really was amazing and surprising and a whole other list of adjectives that Vanessa didn't have the energy to think about right now because she was exhausted.

“She is beautiful,” Hermann agreed with Newt. His gaze was entirely tender, and Vanessa felt her cheeks heat up under it. Everything in Hermann spelled out pride and happiness, and Vanessa would always feel lucky to play any sort of part in bringing that expression on his face.

It was comforting, too, to know that this really had been a good decision in the end. It was good to know she didn't have to feel fear at the idea of having been selfish anymore. They both wanted this. Hell, the three of them wanted this, from the way Newt was looking at the child as well.

“What's her name?” Newt asked.

Hermann and Vanessa looked at each other. Then she looked down at the child.

“Victoria,” Hermann whispered, like it was the formula that could decode the universe, like it was a prayer (the same thing), like it was the most important word he had said in his life.

And Vanessa burned with the way her heart felt so full.

“Born in victory,” Vanessa explained to Newt, refusing to be embarrassed by the sentimentalism of choosing such a name. “It felt appropriate.”

Newt nodded, understanding. “It's a beautiful name.”

“I know.”

 

HERMANN

 

Hermann knew he was supposed to get some sleep, but he couldn't really understand how considering the circumstances.

Vanessa had insisted that him and Newton go back to their shared appartment for some rest, telling them that she was surrounded by nurses and nothing would happen to her or the baby. Victoria. Their daughter.

Vanessa had basically told him and Newton that they were useless right then, and would be even more useless if they slept badly and spent the next day in a bad mood because of it. Hermann had fought her as much as he could, but Vanessa had won in the end. He didn't want to leave her, to leave them alone, but he also couldn't go against his wife's wishes when it came down to it.

And so Hermann had come back to their home, to their bed, and was lying awake in it trying to understand how one was supposed to just go to sleep when one's wife had just had a baby.

When the lying down became too overwhelming, he stood up. A hunch told him Newt would probably be awake as well, and he quietly walked to the living-room to check.

Sure enough, Newt was sitting on the edge of his bed, facing the bay window and reading something on his tablet.

He looked up at the sound of the hallway door closing.

“Can't sleep?”

Hermann shook his head.

“Me neither. Vanessa is going to be pissed with us when we go back there looking like a pair of zombies.”

“I'm sure she'll understand if we tell her we made a valiant effort.”

Newt smiled. “Yeah, probably. She's the best.”

Hermann agreed with the sentiment wholeheartedly. “Is that you or me speaking?” He couldn't help but ask. It was something he had wondered, how Newt's feelings towards his wife had evolved now that the memories he shared with Hermann from the drift had mixed with the opinion he had been able to make for himself.

Newton opened his mouth as if to answer, then closed it immediately, apparently deciding he had to think about it some more.

Hermann took the time to sit down next to him on the couch.

“Probably both. It definitely helps that you're so fucking in love with her, but I think even if I didn't feel that from you I would still think she's the bee's knees. She's an amazing person.”

Hermann smiled. He didn't need to be told that. Every day he wondered how he had been able to get so lucky.

“I mean,” Newton continued. “She's been so kind to me. She had no reason to. When I came here, I was pretty much a stranger to her, and I'm weird and I was invading her private home and messing up the life she had just been able to start again and she still... She was always so kind to me.”

He lapsed into silence for a few seconds.

“It was strange, at first. It felt like she understood me so well, from the start, and I felt like I understood her because of all I knew thanks to you. And so I would forget that we barely knew each other, I would forget that I had no right to those memories, that she didn't know me. And everytime it came back to me, it would be so painful, you know? Like I had this entire history that was being taken away from me. Except it had never been mine in the first place.”

Hermann placed his left hand on Newt's. Because that was something he could do now. That was something he wanted to do now. Whereas for years he had never really thought about comforting Newton at all, had only done so unconsciously, in little gestures that could later be denied or blamed on something else, he now saw it not only as a duty but as a pleasure. It felt good, to be there for Newt. It warmed something in him, to have this additional purpose. To be able to invest in feelings that he knew were returned.

It made him think of a string of e-mails, a witty back and forth that had spanned months of conversation. But Hermann didn't want to cry over spilled milk when he had so many things he could be happy about.

Newton was looking down at their hands like he was surprised by the existence of his own body.

Hermann didn't know how he felt about the fact that Newton didn't seem to ever take what was happening between them for granted. On the one hand, it was saddening to see him doubt both of them like that. On the other, Hermann loved to watch the joy spread over Newton's face when he realized once again that he really could have this. That he really did have this.

It was a strange thing, this relationship. Usually, the scary thing was always that there was so much to learn about the other person. Here, it felt like the most they had to learn was about themselves.

Newton snapped his fingers in front of Hermann's face.

“Earth to Hermann Gottlieb.”

Hermann rolled his eyes. “I'm fine. I was just thinking.”

“When are you not?” Newt jokingly asked.

It was okay if they both saw through the façade. It was okay if they both felt the concern, hidden behind what was unsaid.

They didn't need to talk about it to know how close to the precipice they still were.

They didn't need to talk about it to know that a Breach-shaped hole could still open up beneath their feet at any second. They knew that. They were both ready to face it.

As ready as anyone could ever be.

Which was not at all, probably, but they had managed before.

Newton laid his head on Hermann's shoulder. It was Hermann's turn to feel surprise at how natural the gesture felt.

“Stop thinking so loudly. You're giving me a headache.”

Hermann sighed, letting his cheek rest again Newton's hair. “I don't think I can control the volume of my thought. Of course, I'm no neurobiologist. So I'll do my best.”

Newton snorted. “Right. Vanessa will be okay, you know. She was right. She's surrounded by people who actually know what they're doing, we wouldn't have been any help.”

Hermann hummed his agreement. He could play along and pretend they both didn't know that wasn't what he had been thinking about. That was fine. That was safe.

Newton's tablet had been put down further on the bed, now thoroughly ignored. They stared at the lights outside, silent. They contemplated their past and their future. If they both kept their eyes locked straight ahead, they could pretend they were looking in the exact same direction.

But pretending wasn't good enough in all cases.

“Newt...”

He raised his head from Hermann's shoulder at that, and then the latter put a hand on his cheek. Newt leaned forward immediately, out of reflex. Like he was a flower turning towards the sun. Like facing any other direction was impossible, because this was the only one that brought light and that brought life.

It was an intoxicating feeling. Hermann wanted more of it.

Their lips pressed together, and that, too, was light. In all senses of the term. It was bright and warm and comforting, and it had lost the heavy weight of guilt.

Hermann, who had never been one for touch, felt himself craving contact in Newton's presence. Was it Newton's own feelings that had infected Hermann's, progressively mixing with them until Hermann had a hand in the other's hair?

Or was it just that Newton had crawled his way into his skin, slowly, inexorably, without either of them noticing? Was it just that, after years of contact in one way or another, and then the ultimate contact, the touch of their consciousnesses, was it just that the frontier between who Hermann and Newton were had become fuzzy, and so touching the other was as safe as touching one's own skin?

There was a press of a tongue against Hermann's lips, and he opened his mouth to it like breathing.

They danced together, in thoughts and feelings and the tiniest of gestures. Newton had a hand behind Hermann's neck and was making the soft, low noises, losing them in Hermann's mouth so the two of them would be the only ones to ever hear them.

Hermann pulled away to catch his breath, then surged forward again. He didn't care if this kind of hunger wasn't usual for him. He didn't care who he was or who he was supposed to be. In this instant, Hermann only worried about who they were. He stopped chasing rabbits, and lost himself to the overwhelming silence of immediate togetherness.

Newton let himself fall backwards on the bed, pulling Hermann down with him.

They kept on kissing, facing one another like a pair of brackets. Their pace slowed down, becoming more of an unhurried mapping than any kind of devouring. Maybe that was better. Maybe it was better to be able to express the absolute certainty that they had each other. That neither of them was going away.

Newton pulled away after a while. “We should go to sleep.”

Hermann looked at him, trying to determine if he truly meant it or was saying so just to give Hermann an out. The way he looked, pupils blown and lips red-kissed, wasn't really conductive to wanting to fall asleep, even if Hermann wasn't a de facto insomniac by this point.

Newton blushed under his gaze.

“I mean it. I'm not really... I mean, it's a weird time. So I'm not really in the mood. And we need the rest.”

Hermann nodded at that, sitting up again. He was ready to stand and leave when he stopped.

“Come with me?” He asked, feeling his cheeks heat up with a blush of their own. “If you want to. Just to sleep. I think it would be... I think it might be nice.”

Newton looked surprised. “Is that... do you think that would be okay? I mean, it's also Vanessa's bed so...”

Hermann shrugged. “It's just for one night. Just to sleep. She would be fine with it.”

“Okay, then.”

Hermann reached out a hand and pulled him. He didn't let go even after Newton had landed firmly on his own two feet.

 

NEWT

 

This wasn't the life Newt had imagined for himself. It was far, far away from that.

If he had been asked, several years ago, he would probably have said that he saw himself living alone, in an overpriced apartment in some coastal city. After his close encounter with Otachi and its baby, as well as the residual pull he could still feel from the Drift, he had corrected that statement. An overpriced apartment somewhere in a city that was far inland was probably better.

Still, he had always imagined himself alone. Not in the sense of lonely. Newt was good at making acquaintances wherever he was. He'd had to learn, being the new kid in a new country, far away from most of his family. Maybe he'd been less good at making friends, but you didn't needed people to be your friends to go have a drink with them. That was something Newt had accepted long ago, and he was fine with it.

He was good on his own. He'd had to learn that too. Weird kid in a weird country, always a beat off from the world and the people around him.

Newt had imagined his life alone, and for the most part he'd been happy with it. Science was a demanding mistress. Newt's insomnia made it difficult to share space with anyone. Living alone was the most logical choice, and so it was the only choice Newt had ever let himself contemplate. Allowing yourself to want something you couldn't have was a recipe for disaster, after all.

But everything had changed now. The world was a different place and Newt was a different person. And what he hadn't let himself want had been thrust into his arms without him knowing what to do about it.

These were the thoughts that ran through Newt's mind as he, Hermann and Vanessa started reorganizing their lives around that of a small child.

And Newt had never wanted kids. He was pretty sure he still didn't. Kids were wonderful, in an abstract sense. They were wonders of biology, independent life coming out of life. They were also loud, messy and utterly fragile. The idea of having children had only ever instigated a mix of fear and disgust inside Newt. He had also always had a sense that he didn't want to inflict himself as a parental figure on anyone too young and innocent to know better.

But Victoria... Well, she was there. And she was loud and messy and fragile, but even more of a miracle for all of those things. And Newt didn't have to be a parental figure to her, because she already had parents who loved her to death. Newt didn't have any responsibility towards her. It wasn't his duty to love this tiny human he'd had no part in bringing into the world. Which made it mean so much more when he decided to love her anyway.

Or, well. Decided might be a misleading word. It hadn't been conscious on his part. It had just happened, like the rotation of the planet was something that just happened to all human beings. It was a force that Newt had been incapable of resisting.

He hadn't wanted to. Hadn't even tried.

And so he learned to change diapers. He learned how to rock Victoria back to sleep, because he was the first to wake up most nights anyway, so it just made more sense to be the one to handle it.

There were so many things he thought would have made him want to run away that he now took on without blinking. It was confusing.

Newt wouldn't say that he enjoyed doing all this. No one actually enjoyed changing diapers, or the hundreds of tiny heart attacks involved in spending any amount of time looking over another being. But even if he didn't enjoy the acts in themselves, he was happy to do them, because Hermann would kiss him softly in the morning, grateful for the night of rest, and Vanessa would smile at him.

And yeah, that was far from the life of rock'n'roll and science that Newt had imagined for himself. But it was good.

There had been another slightly unexpected side-effect of Victoria's birth. Despite the equilibrium they'd found with Hermann, despite the stability of having a new professional position to look forward too, there was an axiety that had never gone away. Fascination with the kaiju had been part of Newt's life, a basic fact of his personality for so long, he had always thought the longing would become too much at some point. He had always thought he would make a mistake once, and reach out to them again.

But whenever that urge made itself known, now, he would think of Victoria. Little Victoria, who would hopefully never have to know the same fear Newt had felt when Otachi had chased after him. When he thought of the thrill of the drift, he thought of Victoria's gurgle of a laugh.

The future had always been abstract before. Something that had to be protected but that didn't have a shape. Now the future was driving its mother crazy by refusing to eat, and that changed everything.

It wasn't as easy as that, of course it wasn't. But it helped.

 

Summer came and Newt was able to look down at his bare forearms and see relics of the past, evidence of humanity's resilience, testaments to his own strength, instead of half-mythical beings that ruled over his life.

He was able to give a lecture on kaiju biology without wanting to throw up and pee his pants.

He was able to consider research into the cloning of kaiju tissue without getting overwhelmed by thoughts of the Hivemind, without feeling like he was opening up from the inside to reveal an empty shell that needed to be filled, you could do it, you could fix it, you have the power, you can bring us back.

It wasn't just himself and the world he had to keep safe now. It was Victoria. It was Hermann. It was Vanessa and the life they had built together. It was their flat, with the office that had been converted into Newt's bedroom now that Hermann had one at university. It was the comfort of movie nights on the couch, Vanessa and him on either side of Hermann and driving him crazy by commenting on the film aloud. It was all of those small but concrete things. It was the life that filled him now, that he wanted to protect.

Parenthood was supposed to make you cheesy, but Newt wasn't a parent, damnit. Maybe it was love, then. Eew. That was gross.

Whatever it was, here Newt was. Having entirely too cheesy thoughts about the life he shared with his boyfriend, his boyfriend's wife, and his boyfriend and his wife's kid. Newt had probably lost all of his street cred by that point. Good thing Victoria was still too young to notice that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important things to know: Newt ends up nicknaming Victoria "Puddle." He and Hermann totally use their influence as word-saviours to bend the rules and be able to have Newt come in at parent-teacher meetings. The first time Hermann spend the night in Newt's room instead of Vanessa's, Newt couldn't sleep at all because of how excited and freaked out he was. He and Vanessa signed up to a knitting club together.
> 
> More seriously. This fic took me around four years to complete. For a while there was a serious chance I would never go back to it. But I'm so glad I did. It's a project that has always meant a lot to me. And I'm proud of it. I poured my heart into it, and I hope it shows a little. Pacific Rim has been very important in my life, for the connections it's helped me made, for the joy it brought me, and also for the way it allowed me to play with its universe and characters in a way that's made me grow. I hope that the love I feel for this universe shows a little in this fic.
> 
> Big thank yous to the people who've supported this project, for a long time or a shorter one. To lycanandproud, my first cheerleader when I started this thing in 2015. To robomori for helping me believe putting out a ridiculously long Pacific Rim fanfic in 2019 wasn't a crazy idea, by working on his own ridiculously long Pacific Rim fanfic. I DID IT AND SO CAN YOU! And to fortheloveoflestrade for their comments and their excitment these past few weeks. Thanks for proving me it was all worth it.
> 
> WOW THIS WAS SAPPY. I'm gonna go and cry in silence now 'kaybyeIloveyou


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